Fast as I Can
by Trickster-jz
Summary: JainaxZekk, AU. Jaina and Zekk never met before the day she walked into his diner. From very different walks of life, they have to make major adjustments before they can go further.
1. Chapter 1

**Fast as I Can  
By Trickster-jz**

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**Disclaimer**: Prepare yourself for a shock: I don't own the characters. Or the galaxy, or its concepts (ie: the Force). They _actually_ belong to gasp! George Lucas. I am only playing around in his sandbox, and am making no monetary gain from this. Please don't sue.  
**Summary**: _'I'm goin fast as I can, please don't make me rush / this feeling's coming on way too fast / I'll tell you all of the things that you'll never forget / But I'm not ready say, "I love you" yet'_  
**Genre(s)**: AU, romance, general  
**Author's Note**: This is definitively AU. Zekk and Jaina have never met before this fic; consequently, Zekk knows next to nothing about Jedi, and certainly doesn't have any training as one. Nothing canon post-YJK has occurred: the Vong, Anakin's death, Vergere, etc. The Jedi are still trying to save the galaxy, the NR is still…the NR, and the Solo kids are all alive, thank you very much. Of course, some (well, at least one) NJO characters are going to show up. The feel of this story's setting and characters are also a tad different. Both are more focused on the fame that Jaina's family have to deal with, and on how Zekk grew up. You know me, though—I _love_ these two, more than I do most of my characters. I'll keep 'em Jaina and Zekk ;)  
**A/N 2**: The song title is from Great Big Sea's song, which I felt really fits this story. The story—particularly the beginning—is inspired by a brilliant movie. Try to guess which one!

**_x-x-x-x_**

_Day 1_

Zekk noticed her the second she walked through the door. She wasn't the usual kind of girl found in this place. Although an obviously well-used multi-tool was clipped to her belt, her hair was pulled back and her clothing straight. Her eyes assessed the diner carefully, but not warily, nor with a hard glint she would have had if she was a bounty hunter. He didn't know quite what to think of her.

Something whispered at the very back of his mind, something about a familiar face, but he couldn't pin her. She walked like she was just _waiting_ for someone to challenge her—just so she could get in a good fight. Yet when she reached the bar, she briefly chatted with Mique about general, pleasant topics before politely ordering.

She ordered a Corellian brandy and "any kind of salty cereal they had." Pretzels—stale, dry, and falling apart—were the only snack the Flash served at this time of day, and she ate them carelessly. When Mique raised an eyebrow at her, she grinned and gave him the exact amount she owed. A second later, she tipped her hand and let an extra credit fall on the counter. "Keep the change."

Intrigued, Zekk checked his path to the door. He had gotten off work thirty minutes late, but he didn't really have anything to do. Peckhum was off-planet for the week, and most of his friends were still working at this time. Usually he used the extra time to scavenge the Coruscanti underbelly, but…

Curiosity killed the lynaxi. Hopefully, a grown street rat was a little more resilient.

The dark-haired man took a seat in one of the mini-booths. Beryl gave him a look, but took his order for a cider without comment.

As Zekk watched, the woman nibbled on the remains of her crumbly pretzel. Mique had moved onto his next customer, and she was left to her thoughts. When she casually turned in her chair, however, he realized she was observing everything carefully. She wasn't casing the place—noting back entrances, blind spots and liabilities for theft—though, and he didn't worry. He could tell she'd come out of a fight the winner, and she looked all-too-Corellian for him to ever try to out-shoot her, but she did not appear dangerous. Leastways, not to him, or any of the Flash's patrons.

That worry firmly discarded, Zekk enjoyed his cider and the view. The woman wasn't exactly beautiful. What he could see of her features was average, though slightly more crooked—her nose had been broken at least once. Her figure wasn't pin-up material by any stretch of imagination, though she was clearly athletic. Her hair, although in a ponytail, fell straight and unremarkably brown. Still, she had a kind of clean prettiness that made her easy on the eyes. She didn't chat with Mique any further, and no one appeared at her side to pick her up. If asked, however, Zekk would have guessed that she didn't lack friends or attention.

He considered going over to talk to her. He seemed to have fixated on her, and scratching the itch would probably reveal a horrid personality, or at least bad breath. Every time he began to stand, however, he found a reason to stay down.

_Look at her_, was the first one. _She looks nice enough, but she's probably nothing special. Her swagger could be unbearable arrogance. Knowing your luck…_

The second one: _Why would she want anything to do with_ you_, street rat?_

It was the latter that kept him in his booth. Kriff, it was the latter that kept him working at the Flash, and in his low-rent apartment in lower Coruscant.

His gaze began to move away from the mystery girl and down to his empty glass. Since his parents' death seventeen years previously, he hadn't lived a particularly easy life. He had escaped Ennth, his systematically destructive home planet, onboard a smuggler's ship. Luck had introduced him to old Peckhum, who had taken the heartbroken nine-year-old under his wing. But even with a guide, Zekk had grown up largely on the streets of Coruscant's pits.

When he had been sixteen, some old quack had kidnapped him. Brakiss, the blond man had called himself. He had sprouted idiot's babble about Zekk's "hidden power" and "grand destiny as Brakiss' right hand." Zekk hadn't been interested, and had nearly lost his head—literally—during his first escape attempt. The second try had been no less successful; he survived the third time because of lax security as Brakiss had sent his army out after some target. He hadn't heard anything about them—or his "grand destiny," thank the stars—since then.

Life had calmed down a little in the past ten years; he grew into himself, more or less. Still, he couldn't escape the feeling that he was just a rejected street rat—the pesky orphan who scraped out a living for himself…

"You're an idiot."

Zekk paused, but the voice didn't sound like his own mind. Blinking, he looked up into the liquid brown eyes of his mystery girl. "Um…excuse me? I'm a what?"

She sat across from him without an invitation. Close up, he noticed that her fingers—one of which was pointed at the table for emphasis—were stained with machinery grease. "An idiot," she repeated firmly. Her eyes met his daringly. "I've been sitting over at the counter, waiting for you to talk to me, for the past forty-five minutes. But I have a meeting now, and I have to go."

"I—" Zekk's cheeks flushed, and he glanced away. A few of his colleagues were watching in amusement; he doubted they'd offer him help. "I'm sorry?"

"Well…" She sighed and glanced at her chrono almost regretfully. (Although, Zekk thought, that was probably fanciful thinking.) "Maybe some other time," she stated. "You work here, right?"

"Yes." There. _That_ was something he could answer with minimal difficulty. "I just got off my shift a while ago."

She shrugged. "I'm going to be in the area for a while, for…work. Maybe I'll run into you again sometime."

_Run into? Steamroll over, more like._ Despite his surprise, he felt a small grin come upon his features. "Maybe."

"See you." She flashed a lazy grin, and then she was gone.

**_x-x-x-x_**

Please R&R!

**.Tjz**


	2. Chapter 2

**Kopykitty13**: Thanks! Nope, it's not just a one-shot. There'll be several posts more, at least :)

**Elorinna**** Evenstarre**: mine three:D Thanks for reading.

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_Day 8_

"Hey, you."

Zekk's hand slipped, and only just stemmed the foam from escaping the machine he had been cleaning. "Uh – hi." Nervously, he finished the small chore, then looked up at the mystery girl. She hadn't been back the second day, or the one after that, and he had assumed she wasn't coming back. He supposed, considering what he had seen of her, that he should not have given up. She seemed rather…determined.

She sat at the counter, causing him to grin. "Can I get you anything?"

She glanced around at the mostly-empty diner, then turned back to him. "Corellian brandy. No ice."

He smirked at the choice – he was almost certain she had ordered the same last time. "That'll be eleven credits." Filling a glass with the amber liquid quickly, he set it in front of the woman. When she paid him, he said, "Enjoy."

She held up the glass, almost as if toasting to him, then took an easy swallow. "Thanks. Nothing like brandy, hm?"

His lips curved at the contentment on her face. "You know, you never told me your name."

"Did I not?" She grinned lopsidedly. "My, my. But, then, you never told me yours, and I was the one with the guts to introduce myself."

Zekk's eyebrow raised in amusement. "I almost think you don't _want_ to tell me your name."

She took another swallow of her brandy, then laughed. "Now, why wouldn't I? It's just a name, after all. Maybe you're the one who's keeping mum on the subject."

"Name's Zekk," he acquiesced after a pause. "And yours?"

"Jaina," she replied simply. She seemed to consider adding something, but she didn't.

"Jaina," he repeated. It was a pretty name, but one he had heard often enough. He wondered if she, too, had no last name, or if she had just refrained from mentioning it. "So, what do you, Jaina?"

"Guess," she suggested mischievously. "It's more fun."

"For you," he replied, rolling his green eyes. "I get to embarrass myself."

"Oh, it isn't so bad. I'm…pretty open." Her eyes, the exact same colour as her drink, danced playfully.

He snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm _sure_ you are.

"Um…" He studied her for a moment, taking note of the two blasters that hung from her belt. The dark-haired man had no doubt that she had more hidden. "Smuggler?"

She grinned. "My dad was one, once. But me? Nah." Her bright countenance flickered for a moment. "Would, if I…" Jaina physically shook away the thoughts. "Nice try. Next?"

"Bounty hunter." He doubted it.

Jaina grimaced. "Definitely not. They've caused my family more trouble than they're worth."

"Why your family?" he asked, curious.

"Well…that has something to do with what I am. Which you still have to figure out." She poked his arm across the table. "C'mon, Zekk. Not giving up on me already, are you?"

Leaning against the counter, he scoffed. "Never." When she drained the rest of her drink, the answer came to him. "Pilot. Which would explain how you gulp down that stuff like it's water."

"Ding, ding, ding!" she exclaimed. "Give the man a monkey lizard. Or, well, half of one. Because that is _what_ I am. My other job is _who_ I am."

He stared at her. "Uh…huh."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I know. It's how Jacen – my brother – puts it. Considering he's way too smart and philosophical for his own good, I figure it's probably the most accurate. Kriff if I can really understand it, though."

When Zekk continued to stare at her in confusion, she shrugged. Reaching into her cloak, she retrieved a cylindrical object. "Does this clear some things up?" she asked.

"You're – you're a Jedi." His eyes were glued to the lightsaber, and only with great difficulty did he raise them to meet hers.

Jaina shrugged, but said, "And you get the other half of the lizard. I grew up with two career choices: be a smuggler or a Jedi. Either way, I'm…" She slowed to a stop, then shrugged again. "Well."

"Your parents are, uh, the pressure type?" he asked.

"Um, what do you mean?" she replied vaguely but curiously.

"You – you said you only had two choices. Did your parents lay down the law about that?"

"Oh." She snorted in a manner that seemed self-deprecating. "Oh, my parents were all for the 'you can be whatever you want to be' life. It's everyone else. My parents aren't exactly, uh, wallflowers. I'm expected to carry on the legacy.

"What about you?" she inquired. As she took another gulp of her quickly disappearing brandy, he recognized that she didn't want to speak further on her lifestyle.

"I…" And he gestured around the bar, feeling absolutely ridiculous and insignificant next to her heroic life. "I am a barrista-line cook-waiter at a third-class diner."

"Do you enjoy it?"

Upon realizing that she was serious, he said shortly, "No. Of course not."

"Then why are you here?"

Again, he had to check for honesty on her part. He began to wonder if she came from and had been spoiled by money, or if she had just been very lucky about her jobs. He unconsciously shied away from the first; she seemed too intriguingly and tantalizingly real and he didn't want to ruin it.

_Cat caught the canary before anyone started a-cryin'…_

He thought of feeding her some bantha dung story about a dozen younger siblings, and a fatally ill mother, and how this wasn't his only job. "I need the money," he finally answered. It was generally truthful.

Her eyes narrowed, then moved down to his grease-stained fingers. Her likewise darkened digits drummed the counter. "You're a mechanic?" she asked, almost idly.

Zekk perked up a little. "Ship mechanic," he agreed. "Yeah. Well – sometimes, for Peckhum."

She gave him a half-smile of understanding. "You like it?"

"I love it," he corrected softly. "I've never flown, but – "

"You can almost feel the engines under you when you do." Jaina's eyes became almost dreamy.

"Yeah." He cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious. "Well, it's just – Peckhum has a ship, but I haven't had a…a chance to fly it. He's always using it to cart around his own cargo, and I need to work." _Oh, that's so _hot_, Zekk. You wanna borrow your not-exactly guardian's ship, but you're too scared to leave the planet. Tone down the roar, manly-man._

But Jaina's smile widened into a grin. "It was kinda like that for me, too. My dad's a smuggler-pilot, and I practically grew up on his ship. I've been fixing things – droids, processing units, anything I could get my hands on – my whole life." She shrugged. "I'm a tinkerer. But I've always been Daddy's girl, I guess – I wanted to fly. My dad, though… Well, let's just say the _Falcon_ – "

_Why_ did that remind him of something? Zekk briefly searched his memory, but got distracted by Jaina's anecdote.

" – is like his firstborn child, sometimes. He wouldn't let me so much as 'co-pilot' for a long time. I tried everything in the meantime, to get a chance." She laughed, and he found himself smiling with her. "Word of caution: sucking up is a lot less painful than, uh, stealing your dad's ship and trying to take off without any practical training."

He found himself chuckling as he asked, "What did you _do_?"

She made a face, a mix of embarrassment and amusement that only time could bring. "Let's just say… There's a reason three blocks of the First Tier Botanical Estate homes aren't exactly authentic pre-Empire era."

He raised an eyebrow, his face set in anticipation.

Heaving a sigh, she looked at him sheepishly. "I kinda…er, damaged the roofs of a few houses. And maybe a few balconies. And, uh, one personal landing bay." She paused. "Uh, maybe three."

Zekk's black hair fell back a he laughed out loud. "Being a Jedi didn't help with your piloting skills?"

"I might have gotten a little too cocky," she confessed. Her cheeks flushed a rather attractive shade of pink.

When he continued to laugh, she swatted him good naturedly. "It wasn't _that_ funny. My dad almost killed me! And when Mom found out…" She rolled her eyes. "_Whoo_, boy. I got _quite_ the lecture of 'proper decorum for people of our station,' let me tell you."

He paused, then recalled a detail from her anecdote. "Wait, what were you doing in the First Tier Botanical Estates area? And – 'people of your station'?"

"What, did you think my dad could stand to be separated from his baby?" Jaina rolled her eyes again, but she tensed a little. "He insisted on having a private landing bay. Then, of course, my mom wanted a 'nice, family-sized house,' and – "

"You're rich," he almost accused.

She sighed, and downed the rest of her drink. "That's not exactly it."

"Then what is it?" he demanded, feeling unaccountably betrayed.

She had begun playing with her glass, sliding it across the counter between her hands. "My family… It's more a matter of…I don't know, influence than money. We have enough – money, that is – to be comfortable, but it's…it's not like that."

"Only someone from money would put it that way," he replied disgustedly. He meant it to be quiet, but she caught the gist of it.

"Hey!" she demanded, sparks in her eyes. "Don't you _dare _try to pin me as some…some spoiled brat who's had everything given to her! I haven't, okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sure you didn't get that ancient Hapes Empire doll you wanted. Oh, or that new X-wing model is probably still in the shipyards, being customized for you – how many do you have now?"

"Kriff. You."

"Oh, come on," he goaded irritably. "Why not tell me? I'm sure you can spare an ignoble peasant a few answers."

Jaina's pleasant expression had completely disappeared into a glare. "One – I never played with dolls, unless you count a stuffed Wookiee that I got from my uncle. Two – I have one X-wing, which I have for my _job _as a _pilot_. It's not brand new, but I've worked for it. You don't get my squadron position without it. And three – _get over yourself_! I have two jobs: pilot and Jedi. _Neither_ of them are simple walks through the park. I've been training as a Jedi practically since I was born, and I do it because I _need_ to. I don't get paid to help people, or to negotiate peace treaties between enemy planets, or to put my life in danger all the time. But at least I'm doing what I _love_, and at least I know what I'm meant to do in this life."

"Now, you wait a minute," he started furiously.

"No, _you_ wait!" she snapped back. It occurred to him that he'd heard somewhere Corellians had the worst tempers.

"You," she said coldly, and he realized that he was not going to like what came next. "You work here, but you hate it. Why don't you _do_ something about it? Because you're scared," she answered before he could. "You're _terrified_ that you're gonna try, and fail, and you'll be even worse off than before. Last time I was here? I saw you watching me. You wanted to talk to me, but you _wouldn't_. Why? I don't bite!

"If you'd just…" She visibly began to rein in her temper. "There is so much out there, Zekk. If you don't want to reach out and take it for yourself, fine. I've met too many _cowards_ to try to change your mind. But don't get all huffy because my parents have done well financially. Money does _not_ equate an easy life, as a lot of people could tell you."

_Oh, the trials of the rich and famous_, he almost said. He only just refrained. The expression on her face and in her voice was genuine, and it shamed him. "Look, Jaina – "

"Save it," she muttered. Checking her chrono, she growled. "Sithspit," he heard her say. "Kyp's gonna kill me."

She stood from her stool before giving him a stony look. "Goodbye, Zekk."

**_x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x_**

**_x-x-x-x_**

Please R&R!

**.Tjz**


	3. Chapter 3

**DathomiranAuthor**: Thanks :D

**Elorinna Evenstarre**: I'm glad the characters are coming out right :)

-----

Just so you know – I've been having a lot of trouble with my internet connection lately, which is why this chap is late. I'll try to keep the updates at least semi-regular, but it might get interesting…

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_Day 22_

He hadn't expected to ever see her again after their last, disastrous talk. So it was with understandable surprise that Zekk saw Jaina walk out of the rain and into the Flash.

There was something…tired about her this time, and she fell into a booth without care. Her head fell into her hands and stayed there until Beryl came to take the Jedi's order. Even then, Jaina's shoulders were slumped, and her expression bleak. Her hair, drenched from the unexpected downpour, was stringy and pressed against her face. Everything about her painted a steep contrast to the vibrant girl he had seen on two previous occasions.

Zekk didn't think she had seen him, and he doubted she would want to talk to him, even if her attitude was lighter. Still, he made a split second decision that would put him directly in harm's way. When Beryl had finished preparing a mug of hot chocolate, Zekk took it to the Jedi Knight who had ordered it. His shift had ended just a minute ago, and he was free to do as he wished. Normally, that meant visiting Peckhum, or one of his few friends. Today, it meant apologizing to the not-exactly rich girl/pilot/Jedi.

Jaina took the large mug without looking up, and with only a mumbled, "Thanks."

Ignoring her inattention, he sat down across from her. "Not exactly your usual," he remarked. "Comfort drink?"

Jaina raised her gaze irritably. Judging by the redness of her eyes, she had cried recently. "What do _you_ want?"

"To apologize," he confessed. "But mostly to see what's wrong. Are you…okay?"

"I thought this – " she weakly waved a hand at him " – was the bartender's job."

"Sometimes I'm a bartender," he replied calmly. "What's wrong?"

She looked at him for several minutes before sighing deeply. Scooping off and eating some of the whipped cream on her drink, she held back only another moment. "Ever heard of Cruxx Lafoyz?"

"The crime lord? Who hasn't?" he countered. His brow became furrowed in concern. "But what does he have to do with this?"

Jaina brushed some of her hair back from her face, and Zekk noticed that her jaw was darkening with a bruise. It had to be recent. Her comment from two weeks before came back to him –_I don't get paid to help people, or to negotiate peace treaties between enemy planets, or to put my life in danger all the time_.

"We've been trying to pin him for years, but there's never been enough evidence – or enough Jedi – to send him to court."

"But you do now?" the dark-haired man asked. He didn't like the sound of this.

"We're getting there," she replied vaguely. "I won't get into it, but a group of Jedi – myself included – ran into Cruxx a little sooner than expected. I guess he's getting nervous. It didn't end well."

"Meaning…?" Zekk swallowed past the lump in his throat. Meetings with Cruxx that "didn't go well" were notoriously painful. _At least Jaina's okay_, he thought numbly. _But who…?_

"We managed to escape, obviously. But a family friend and fellow Jedi..." Jaina gulped the hot chocolate before pressing the mug down on the table. Around the glass, her knuckles were white. "Kyp was injured pretty badly – one of Cruxx' goons shot him in the upper stomach. He's at the Healers' right now. I just… They wouldn't let me stay, and I couldn't just…_wait_ there for them to tell me – "

Zekk's hands found their own way to her wrists in a reassuring squeeze. "Jedi Healers are miracle workers," he said wryly. "He'll make it."

"Oh." She laugh-sobbed quietly. "I know he will. Kyp's too kriffing stubborn to die from something as pathetic as a blaster wound. You wouldn't _believe_ the things he's…" She sniffled and tried to give him a smile. It didn't work very well. "I just – sometimes I really hate being a Jedi, you know? I'm no good at waiting to find out if my friends are going to die."

"I don't think anyone is good at that," he told her. "Peckhum – he's been like a father to me, but he's not exactly sprightly anymore. Of course, with my parents…it doesn't help anything."

Slipping one hand from Zekk's grasp, Jaina discreetly wiped her eyes. "Your – uh, your parents?"

"They died when I was nine," he explained, in a manner much more composed than he actually felt.

"Stars. I'm so sorry." Jaina rubbed her face briefly, making some of her wet hair stand up a little. She let her hand fall on top of Zekk's. "What happened? If you don't mind me asking."

"I was just a kid," he repeated. "Have you ever heard of a planet called Ennth?" When she slowly shook her head, he continued. "It's pretty small, but every eight years it's struck by a series of natural disasters. Volcanoes, earthquakes, floods…you name it. By the time the cycle ends, everything on-planet has been destroyed. Everyone has to escape on ships until it's over. My parents weren't…quite, uh, fast enough getting onto the ship."

Jaina remained respectfully silent for a moment before speaking again. "What did you do after?"

He brought his hands to the edge of his side of the table. "My parents were my only family – if I have any living relatives, I don't know it. I ended up smuggling myself onto a ship. Turned out to be the _Lightning Rod_ – Peckhum's ship. He took me under his wing, and I've been on Coruscant ever since."

"Did he adopt you?"

Zekk shrugged. "I don't need a set of documents to tell me that Peckhum's my guardian. I lived with him for the first couple years, but the older I got, the more living with Peckhum became an on-again, off-again thing."

She nodded pensively, drinking more of her hot chocolate. "So, you're really sorry? Or are you just saying that for…I dunno, whatever reason?"

"I _am_ sorry. I shouldn't have…" Zekk sighed. "I guess, living down here, it's easy to resent people in your situation. I shouldn't have implied…"

"No, you shouldn't have," she replied simply. "But, I shouldn't have called you a coward, either. And I didn't need to be quite _that_ sharp in my rebuke. I let my temper get the better of me."

"Does that mean I'm forgiven?"

"I don't know," she said with a teasing lilt. "Do you have a flowery apology for a rich snob?"

She was testing the waters, but he didn't mind. "I'm afraid this ignoble peasant can barely read, let alone scrounge up a 'flowery apology.' Do pardon the indignity."

"I'll try," she agreed wryly. "Look, Zekk… I'm going to go through this one last time, then I'm just going to drop it. I don't really like talking about my family's situation. But…it really _isn't_ like that. We do have enough money, but it's far from ridiculous. People trust my parents for some stuff that's happened both now and before, and there's pressure on my siblings and I to keep up the 'family tradition'. But it's not about money, at all. The First Tier Botanical Estate home was temporary – my parents moved out a few years ago. It just… My mom got it for her job, but she's out of that scene now.

"I'm twenty-four now; I live off my own paycheque. I don't get loans from my parents at every turn, though if I could get them if I needed them." She sighed, and ran a hand over her wet hair. "If this is going to be a problem, I need to know now. I'll leave. I hear the place across the street sells a good, stiff brandy too."

"Why'd you come back?" he asked.

It was a simple question, and one he wanted the answer to. He doubted that she just happened to wander from a Jedi Healer's abode down to the lower levels of Coruscant.

She held her hot chocolate tightly, and her eyes got lost somewhere on the other side of the window. "I don't know," she said. "I just walked. When I stopped, I was here."

**_x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x_**

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Please R&R!

**.Tjz**


	4. Chapter 4

…Long time no see? I had almost forgotten about this piece until recently, and now I'm writing like mad, so if anyone is still reading, I'll restart posting. And…sorry about that unscheduled hiatus.

**_x-x-x-x-x_**

_Day 29_:

"Tomorrow's the day," she said without introduction.

He had turned to greet her, but at her words his smile faded a little. "'The day'?" he repeated.

She smiled grimly before speaking in a low voice. "Cruxx."

"Oh." Zekk stared at her blankly for a moment, then poured her a brandy. "It's on the house," he told her. She was early today, though he had come to expect her arrival after this shift. He was still technically working the counter, but it was quiet at the moment, and he could talk.

"Thanks." She held it up briefly. "To – hopefully – a scumbag's last day of freedom."

"Here, here," he murmured. "So – uh, everything's set?"

Jaina paused mid-swig before swallowing. Slowly, she set her glass down on the counter. "I really don't want to talk about it, actually." Her voice was almost completely calm, but Zekk thought he saw the tiniest spark of suspicion enter her eyes.

The realization that she didn't completely trust him knocked Zekk back a little. It made him realize that it was, after all, only the fourth time they had spoken. Other than her Force-given intuition, she was flying blind in a dangerous atmosphere. Cruxx had spies everywhere, and when spies failed him, he had been known to "persuade" others to give him information.

"Of course not," he spoke quickly. "I shouldn't have asked. But…you'll – uh – you'll be safe?"

She stared at him, then laughed darkly. "Zekk. You live practically next door to this guy. You know who he is, and the kind of goon-power he has, and probably even how many perverted assassins he has. How safe do _you_ think I'll be? Why do you think I'm here, and about to ask you for something kriffing stronger than this brandy?"

He had no reply for her that he could voice. Instead of speaking, he pulled out the strongest bottle of alcohol he had, and put it on the counter. He poured her a glass. "That's all you're getting. I know pilots drink this stuff like water, and I know you can probably purge it right out of your system with your Force, but this stuff is awful."

Jaina downed it quickly. When it was gone, she grimaced. "Ugh. Congratulations – I've had some pretty rotten tasting drinks before, but that takes the _cake_. What was it – paint thinner?"

"I really don't even know," he said, chuckling a little at her expression. "Mique put it back here for 'emergencies'. All I know is that it's got more – really foul – kick in it than anything I've ever tried. In case you were wondering," he added dryly, "that means something."

"I figured."

Abruptly, she gave a choked sob. Her head fell into her hands, her drink pushed to the side where it rocked but didn't fall. "I'm scared, Zekk. So scared."

For a second, he didn't know what to do. He had seen her morose before, on her last visit, but even then she had held it together. Now…. He walked around the counter. Hesitantly, he wrapped touched her arm. "Jaina…"

She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes quickly. "No, I'm sorry. Really. I'm not usually a cry-baby… I just – I don't know. I should go." She stood.

"No," he said quickly. "Don't. It's okay." Trying to make the mood lighter, he reminded her, "I'm the bartender, remember? It's my job to look out for crying drunks."

She snorted, but sat down again. "I'm sorry," she repeated after several minutes. "Seeing Kyp shot last week…. I've known him since I was _two_, and he's like an older brother to me. When he went down, I just – _Force_." Impatiently, she drew her hand through her hair. "I've been driving my family crazy. Jacen finally 'lost' me down on the eighth level. I've been walking around since then, trying to sort it all out."

"And you just ended up here?"

"Well…I guess." Shifting uncomfortably on her seat, Jaina looked at him. "Why?"

He changed the subject without answering her. "Okay, your next drink, _you're_ paying for. And – " he added when she opened her mouth " – it'll be non-alcoholic this time."

"I'm taking out a mob boss, and this is my thanks? Your gratitude is a little shifty, Zekk." The teasing look in her eyes reassured him that she wasn't serious. "Hot chocolate, then," she ordered.

"Your comfort drink," he said. Going back around the counter, he smiled at her as he prepared the drink.

Jaina started a little. "How – how did you know?"

"You ordered it last time, too. I figured…" He shrugged. "Whipped cream?"

"Lots of it," she agreed. "I don't drink it much, anymore. Pilots don't exactly drink it, and so many Jedi are caught up in the herbal tea craze. But one of my hold-mo – that is, Winter, my honorary aunt, she always used to make it for me, when we were younger. I guess I always identify it as…"

"Comforting?"

"Yeah." Whimsically, she smiled back at him. "I guess so."

He piled the whipped cream high, then carefully slid it and a spoon to her. "That'll be seven credits."

She paid him, then started spooning the whipped cream into her mouth. "My mom was always so busy when Jasa and I were kids…even when Anakin was born."

Anakin? Another name that tickled at his memory – something to do about Darth Vader. But who would name their kid after anything to do with that monster?

"Winter, on the other hand, was always around," Jaina finished. "In a way…." She didn't finish her sentence.

"Being Force-sensitive, Jasa, Anakin and I used to get nightmares, sometimes. Things that had happened…were happening… Force, we must have been _awful_ to baby-sit. But Winter was always there to wake us up. When things were really bad, she'd have the hot chocolate made up even before we started crying. She always knew. I guess aunts are like that."

Zekk barely remembered his parents, let alone any aunt he may have had. "I guess so."

Jaina's eyes were completely clear again, and she sipped more of her hot chocolate. "So, enough about me – I'm boring. What's _your_ comfort drink?"

"I assume we're talking about non-alcoholic here, so I'm going to go with tea," he replied after a moment. "Peckhum is always drinking it – it's good for his health, apparently – and I caught on. It's actually pretty good."

She made a face. "Sorry, but – I hate tea. Every time I visit another Jedi – my family included – they're trying to get me started on it." She skipped a beat, then grinned. "I guess you missed your calling."

"My…calling?" he repeated sceptically.

"You'd fit right in with the Jedi," she explained with a laugh. "Amidst tea and meditation."

"Oh." He wondered, briefly, what his life would have been like as a tea-drinking, lightsaber-wielding, life-saving Jedi Knight. "Even if I had…whatever it is you need to feel the Force…I don't think I'd fit in."

"They aren't all like me," Jaina told him. She had clearly missed his point. "Actually, I'm kind of a minority. Most of the Jedi try to be more…stable. Some of them keep looking at me like I'm going to go Dark, just because I hang out with Kyp, and have a temper." She snorted. "Like it wouldn't take something extreme for me to turn, just like it would any of them."

"I meant – " Because she was being honest, he returned the courtesy. "I'm not a hero. I couldn't…do all the things you have to do."

Unexpectedly, Jaina's expression became fierce. "You won't know anything for sure until you try, Zekk. Why are you so quick to – to assume you aren't any good?"

"Whoa," Zekk said, backing up. He held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, look. Obviously, I've hit some kind of sore spot, so I'll just back off on that right now."

She frowned, clearly piqued. "Zekk – "

"Nuh-uh," he interrupted. "New topic. Or, old topic. Are you going to be okay tomorrow?"

Jaina opened her mouth as if to protest further, but with a frustrated sigh she shut it again. "I told you," she said after a moment. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I just want you to tell me you'll be safe."

"I'm not in the habit of lying, Zekk."

"I'm not in the habit of _wanting_ a lie, Jaina. Look, I'm going to be worried sick. Just – "

"Never get attached to a Jedi. We can die pretty easy, sometimes." The words were cold as Hoth, though the bitterness was not directed at him. Jaina gripped her mug tight, just the way she had when talking about Kyp's injury.

He regarded her carefully. After a brief pause, he said, "_Deal_ with me being attached." Before she could speak, he tapped her mug with one finger. "Drink your hot chocolate, Jaina. Then tell me you're going to be okay. I don't care if it turns out to be a lie."

The Jedi Knight stared at him for a moment, but finally drank down her hot drink in several large gulps. Deliberately placing the mug back on the counter, she raised her eyes to his. "I'm going to be fine," she told him in a clear, unwavering voice.

"Good girl."

She shook her head. "We'll see."

Several minutes of silence passed. Finally, Jaina gave him a thin, nervous smile. "Bye, Zekk."

"Stay safe, Jay."

As she walked out, he wondered if he'd ever see her again, even if she did survive. It didn't seem likely – girls like her didn't come to places like this. Not in the usual score of things.

**_x-x-x_**

_Day 31_:

Technically, night had long ago fallen on this part of Coruscant. In fact, it was already three minutes into the morning.

In actuality, Coruscant never slept, and everything – businesses, aliens, and humans – was still going at its usual breakneck speed. Life was too short to slow down, and not a single person (at least, those on the trendy side of life) was unaware of that fact.

Zekk was one of those still up, though he hadn't been to a night hotspot in some time. Instead, he was working at the Flash.

His low-rent, one bedroom apartment wasn't expensive. He didn't need to take the five hour shift; he could have been out, or even sleeping. He needn't have been the only person in the diner, with only a high-power blaster and his own fighting ability to protect him. But Zekk was saving up for…something more…and so he sat on a stool behind the counter, waiting for a customer.

The holo-net played quietly by him, and he kept a wary eye on it for news about Cruxx. He didn't admit – even to himself – that he was watching for some kind of confirmation. Some kind of…reassurance that Jaina, even uncertain as she had been, wasn't lying when she said she would be alright.

The door jangled as it was thrown open, and Zekk looked up to see a familiar figure. "Well, turns out I wasn't lying," Jaina said. Her grin lit up her entire face as she came to the counter and leaned against it. "Everyone came out safe and sound."

He answered with his own smile. Jaina's right eye was quickly blackening, and some of her clothing looked singed, but considering the alternatives, he figured she had come out miraculously well. "Great!" he exclaimed with no small amount of relief. "Uh – you want something? Brandy? It's on me."

But she shook her head. "Can't – not tonight. Kyp is waiting outside with the speeder – Jacen and Tenel Ka already went ahead. We have to report to the Council, then to my parents, and then hopefully to sleep. Tomorrow the team has to prep for the trail, and clean-up, and everything." She rolled her eyes. "I already have a headache."

"Sounds like you'll be drinking a lot more caf than brandy," he remarked. The Flash, despite occasionally serving food, did not make a lot of the bitter, caffeinated drink. Strangely, he felt leaden at the thought.

"For a while, at least," she admitted. "I'm not much for it, though, so I'll be back to alcoholic beverages soon enough.

"Look," Jaina said, "I just wanted to say…thanks. For, you know, putting up with me while I blubbered, and all. It's been a long mission. I don't usually get that emotional. But you were…that is, you helped, a lot. So…thanks."

"Hey, it was nothing." He almost added, _What are friends for?_ That would have been stupid, he thought later. He didn't even know what she thought they were. Probably just a bartender and brandy-buyer.

"Well, it meant a lot to me." She gave him her trademark lopsided grin. "You're a good friend, Zekk."

Okay, maybe he _wasn't_ just the bartender. Zekk liked that idea. He really liked the way she looked at him, right then. Like he was somebody she – a Jedi – could count on. Like she knew him, and still thought he was worth something.

Outside, he made out a speeder honk amidst all the other Coruscant sounds. Jaina looked over her shoulder, then laughed. "That'd be Kyp – he's not much for patience. I'd better go."

"Okay, I'll see you next week." The words slipped out where he hadn't intended them. _Idiot_, he snapped inwardly. _The mission's over. She's not coming back_.

Jaina had been about to stand, but she paused and looked at him. Slowly, a faint smile came to her face. "Yeah," she said. "I'll see you then. Regular day?"

"Uh – yeah," he stammered. "S-see you then."


	5. Chapter 5

_Day 32_

Zekk started to throw the news-slide at the wall of his apartment, but just held himself back. Losing his temper wouldn't do any good. Half of it was concern in disguise, and the other a confused mess of many emotions. _But he couldn't help – _

It was all over the news.

JEDI TAKE OUT THE GARBAGE – "WE WILL NOT ALLOW CRUXX TO GET AWAY WITH HIS CRIMES," SAYS HAPAN PRINCESS TENEL KA CHUME TA' DJO.

The images, alone, took him aback. The Jedi team had been at a press conference to relay the information. Jaina and an older man (Zekk assumed him to be Kyp) looked bored out of their skulls by the questioning. He had no doubt that both of them would rather be anywhere – even on another mission – than dealing with the press.

One of the team members' head had been bandaged, and Kyp held himself stiffly, as if he wasn't yet over his blaster wound. Both on the holo-net, and in the news-slide, pictures of Jaina had her looking much more banged up than she had the night before.

MISSION NEARLY TURNED FATAL, BUT NEVER TOO MUCH FOR JEDI.

She hadn't told him that she'd just missed getting her "brains blown out" when Cruxx's capture went badly. Apparently, one of Cruxx's goons had grabbed her and Jacen, and had held blasters to them in hopes of escaping.

It hadn't worked, of course, and Jaina and her brother had freed themselves. But why did he have to find that out from a _news-slide_?

ANOTHER HEROIC ACT FROM THE SOLO FAMILY.

She had never told him her last name.

Her real name was Jaina _Solo_. As in, the galactic heroes. As in, the family that saved the New Republic more times than anyone could count. As in, the family directly related to _Luke Skywalker_. (Kriff, Luke Skywalker was her _uncle_.)

_My family… It's more a matter of…I don't know, influence than money_.

Everyone knew about the Solo family. When Zekk started searching for information on them, he could hardly believe he'd missed the connection.

_My_ _mom was always so busy when Jasa and I were kids…even when Anakin was born_.

Jaina's mother. Leia Organa Solo, princess of Alderaan, Jedi Knight, and former Chief of State. No kidding, she had been busy.

Her father, on the other hand… Han Solo, former smuggler, mercenary-turned-hero, ace pilot. He'd actually kidnapped Leia and taken her to Dathomir, and came back for their wedding.

_It's how Jacen – my brother – puts it. Considering he's way too smart and philosophical for his own good, I figure it's probably the most accurate_.

Jacen Solo, Jedi Knight, mediator, hero, and reportedly in love with – and loved by – the heir to the Hapan throne. Jacen wasn't Jaina's only brother – but he was her twin. The two were reportedly closer than anything.

_…even when Anakin was born_.

She hadn't talked about Anakin, as much, but with a last name Zekk could easily fill in the gaps. Anakin Solo – named for his grandfather, and as a "sign that Leia had forgiven her biological father" – was said to be one of the most powerful Jedi alive.

All the names she had dropped… Kyp was Kyp _Durron_; her "uncle" was Chewbacca, Han's famous partner. The _Falcon_ – kriff, the _Millennium Falcon_! – that was the first ship Jaina had flown, and she'd smashed it into a bunch of houses.

_I have one X-wing, which I have for my job as a pilot. It's not brand new, but I've worked for it. You don't get my squadron position without it. And…I have two jobs: pilot and Jedi…I've been training as a Jedi practically since I was born, and I do it because I need to_.

But Jaina…she had left out a lot about herself. Like the fact that she was a major in Rogue Squadron. _Rogue Squadron!_ He'd read about them as a kid. Friends of his had enlistment posters on their walls – most could rattle off a two-decade long account of their deeds.

It was just so…unbelievable. All this time, he had been talking to an ace pilot/Jedi/Solo. She was intricately connected to a world he had read about in history books. The things she had _seen_, let along done, were so beyond –

Shoving the news-slide aside, Zekk threw himself from his chair. Stars, he thought. She must think he was so _stupid_! There he had been, babbling about drinks, and his pitiful-but-boring life, and her safety. The first two must have bored her nearly out of her mind; the last now seemed ridiculous. What, like she hadn't been in _far_ worse situations? How many times had she saved the galaxy, anyway?

Her distress had seemed so real the other day – but what if she had just been playing him? Maybe she was just slumming it, while getting a good laugh at her simpleton bartender.

"Well, kriff her," he told his door. She'd been lying all this time? Having a good laugh?

Well, he'd figured it – her – out.

End game.

Zekk had survived a lot of loss in his life. Realizing a "friendship" was completely false? That was more than survivable.

In fact, with the temper he'd worked himself into, it was _damn easy_.

**_x-x-x_**

_Day 36_

It was the "regular day."

Under a week ago, Zekk had been surprised – happy – that she considered the week's fifth day _theirs_.

Under a week ago, he hadn't known that Jaina's last name was Solo. He hadn't decided her intentions were not friendly; he had thought she liked him as a human being, at the very least.

_"Okay, I'll see you next week."_

_"Yeah. I'll see you then. Regular day?"_

_"Uh – yeah. S-see you then."_

She'd be waiting at the Flash – assuming she really meant it, of course.

Zekk called in sick.

**_x-x-x_**

_Day 40_

"Your girl was asking after you."

Zekk didn't look at Mique as he discarded his jacket. "Was she?" he said indifferently. His temper boiled, just below the surface.

"Yeah." The platinum-haired, dark-skinned bartender took Zekk's measure with golden eyes. "Wanted to know where you were. I told her you were sick. That you'd be back soon enough."

Zekk grunted.

"You sure got – and recovered from – that virus quick."

The dark-haired bartender glared at Mique. "Well, I've got a _great_ immune system. Thanks for the concern."

"Man, you're an idiot." Mique snorted. "A girl like that – "

"Shut up."

Mique was undeterred. " – does _not_ come to this kinda diner because of the beer."

"And losers like us don't leave joints like this for long," Zekk snapped. "Go mind your own kriffing business."

"Whatever, man." Mique rolled his eyes. "But I can only cover for you for so long."

**_x-x-x_**

_Day 50_

He kept seeing her in his mind.

_A girl like that…_

She didn't come in that day.

He wondered why.

Then told himself it was for the best.


	6. Chapter 6

_Day 57_

He had made a mistake in avoiding her.

For two weeks, he had altered his schedule so that he would miss her every time she came to the Flash.  The third week, he hadn't been able to trade shifts quickly enough, but Jaina hadn't shown up anyways.  He had – naively, he admitted now – hoped it meant that she had given up far more quickly than he knew she would.  Jaina was too busy with the trial to seek him out for cheap thrills anymore than she usually did.  That, more than surrender, was a likely reason for her no-show the week before.

Mique had been quick to set the scene of the two previous times she had come and waited for him.  Jaina had shown up on the "usual" day, at the usual time, then ordered a drink, and sat at the bar for twenty minutes.  As he had so solicitously promised, Mique made sure to tell her that Zekk would be "back soon", and that of _course_ he wasn't "disinterested."  Zekk wondered exactly what her reaction to _that_ had been.

Yes, avoiding her had been a mistake.  Jaina might be a Jedi, but Zekk already knew she had a temper.  And eventually she would realize he was avoiding her, and…

"Oh, shavit," Zekk cursed, just as the Jedi Knight in question charged through the door.  Her eyes were crackling with anger, and the girl herself looked like she was ready to implode from her own fury.

In a half-hearted escape attempt, Zekk raced out the backdoor.  Mique complained, but his words were cut off when the door closed.

Zekk didn't _really_ expect it to work.

And it didn't.

Jaina, after all, had years of experience in catching up with people.  Mob bosses.  Corrupt politicians.  Warlords.  Agents of Wanna Take Over the Galaxy, Inc.  The like.

Seconds later, Hurricane Jaina Solo came storming into the back alley.  "Alright, then, let's have it!" she snapped without any introduction.  "What the _kriff_ is going through your head _now_, Zekk?"

Seeing her sparked his own temper, but made him colder where hers made her burn.  "Why, Princess," he mocked.  "Can't you tell when someone's avoiding you?"

A strange emotion raced across her face before Jaina's glare fell back in place.  "Avoiding?  Hell, why mince words.  You're _running_.  Scampering off like a coward, with your tail between your legs.  But, yes, I picked up on that just _fine_, thanks.  I wouldn't mind knowing _why_ though, if a reason happens to exist."

Her eyes flicked away for a second.  Zekk told himself he had only imagined the hurt in her expression.

But that second began chipping away at his anger.

"What's going on, Zekk?"

If she sounded tired, Zekk told himself it was only because of the trial.  He had kept an eye on the proceedings.  Jaina had been on the witness stand last week.  He may, officially, be mad at her, but his initial anger had been at least somewhat tempered with time.  He had wanted to make sure she was…alright, holding it together.  Trying to tell himself that of _course_ she was alright – she was used to this stuff – had not helped.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked her.  A month ago, the question would have been furious, betrayed.  Now it was just…weary, if still hard.

"Tell you what?" Jaina retorted.  She crossed her arms over her chest as she looked up at him.  "My favourite colour?  What time of day I was born at?  The name of my stuffed Wookiee?"

"About _you_," he snapped.  "About who you _really_ are."

Jaina stared at him for a moment, looking almost confused.  Soon after, understanding entered her eyes, and her expression became stoic.  "I am _really_ Jaina," she told him.  "Jaina.  Solo.  Yeah, I'm actually part of the Solo family."  She paused.  "How did you find out?"

"How do you _think_?"

"I don't know!" she exploded.  "From the holo-net?  A gossip magazine?  Someone who recognized me?  My life has _never_ been private, Zekk.  The press found out about Jacen and me when my mom was barely out of her first trimester.  Since then, everything from my first crush to my knighting ceremony has been out in the open for everyone to see.  And if they can't have the truth, then they flaunt a twisted set of lies."

"But you didn't _tell_ me," he pointed out.  "You knew I didn't know, and you deliberately kept your silence.  Give me _one good reason_ why."

"One?" she scoffed.  "Kriff, Zekk, I could give you a thousand.  Do you know how many enemies I have?  Double that number is how many assassins and bounty hunters are keeping an eye on me, in case the right amount shows under my name.  Some of them are even actively looking for me, and some of them have tried to befriend me so they could get Jacen or Anakin, too."

Zekk felt like he'd been punched in the gut.  "You think I – "

"No," she stated, quite simply.  Some of the fight seemed to leave her, and Jaina began to fiddle with the multi-tool on her belt.  "Look, Zekk.  I've liked you pretty much from the start, okay?  I have.  And my gut told me you were – you _are_ – a good guy.  But I've been wrong before, and I couldn't risk my family like that."

Zekk opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off.

"You wanted my reasons, right?" she asked, beginning to pace.  She glanced around at the empty alley.  "Well, I'll explain them to you.  But I'm still kinda annoyed with you for just _avoiding_ me for a month, so don't talk.

"Second reason.  Uh, how about the _obvious_?  Cruxx knew about the Jedi investigation, and he knew I was on the team.  Several of my closest, non-Jedi friends have had to watch their backs very carefully in the past months.  What do you think Cruxx would have done to a bartender working in his area, if he knew that you knew me?  I'm sure you can guess.  The stories don't leave _that_ much to the imagination."

Zekk flinched, but his anger was almost entirely gone.  "Great.  So you lied to save my life.  Thanks.  And well done on being such an _unselfish_ Jedi.  You can leave now."

This time, Jaina visibly deflated.  "Last reasons," she softly told him.  "I saw how you reacted to my job, Zekk.  When you realized I'm a Jedi.  You just – the look in your eyes.  Like I was some kind of…" She sighed.  "I can't help who my parents are, and I didn't design my genetic code.  But every time someone finds out who my parents are, and what 'heroic deeds' I've done, they act differently around me.  Or they think they 'know' me, because they've read about me in some stupid tabloid.

"And – you know what? Kriff it, Zekk!  It _isn't_ important.  I am _still_ the girl you talked with once a week for a few weeks.  So, my parents are heroes – that's them.  They're the ones who've earned their reputation.  Could I have ridden off my family's name?  Oh, if I wanted that kind of life, sure, I guess.  But not to be a Jedi, and _definitely_ not to be in Rogue Squadron.  I have a famous last name; it doesn't mean anything to me except my family."

He studied her for a moment before sighing.  "The stuff you said, last time – right before you imprisoned Cruxx… Was that true?  Were you really scared?"

Jaina's eyes dropped to her feet even as she huffed impatiently.  "Well, duh, Zekk.  Of course I was."  The young woman crossed her arms over her stomach as she tried to play it off.  Looking up, she proudly flipped her hair.  "I – I mean, for one thing, he's this ugly…thing.  I have more than a slight suspicion that he's half-Hutt.  Eww, much?  The blubber alone gave me nightmares."

He thought of calling her on her feigned nonchalance, but didn't.  He'd let her keep her defence mechanisms for now.  "And you weren't – uh – "

Jaina tilted her head curiously.  "I wasn't…what?"

Blunt.  Best to be terribly blunt with her, and get it over with.  She had revealed herself to prefer that tactic.  "Are we actually friends, or am I just the clueless bartender to you?"

She blinked at him repeatedly before managing to raise an eyebrow.  "Um, yeah, 'kay, we are _definitely_ going to have to work on your self-esteem issues, Zekk."

He bristled.  "What is that supposed to – "

"Of course we're friends," she was quick to interrupt.  "I mean, if you forgive me."

"Did you apologize?" he challenged, teasing her a little.

"I'm sorry we're both truly flawed and kriffed up individuals," she instantly replied.

Zekk laughed – couldn't help it.  "Some apology."

The Jedi Knight grinned weakly.  "I'm willing to start over if you are."

"Yeah."  The bartender considered her, then held his hand out.  "I'm Zekk – no last name, so the records usually just have me listed as Zekk 'Ennth.'  I'm a bartender at the Flash, and someday I mean to try my hand at flying."

Jaina shook his hand firmly.  Her hands were callused and faintly grease-stained – not what he would expect from a galactic celebrity, though they fit this Jaina Solo perfectly.  Maybe that was why he hadn't realized it sooner.

"I'm Jaina," she said.  "Jaina Solo, I mean.  I'm a major in Rogue Squadron, though on leave right now; and a Jedi Knight – I'm never really on leave from that."

"Nice to meet you, Jaina Solo."  He smiled crookedly, and gestured for her to follow him back into the Flash.  "Brandy?  Technically, I'm still on duty.  If Mique hasn't tattled on me to the boss, or something."

She hesitated, then echoed his grin in exact measure.  "I could go for some hot chocolate, actually – it's been a long month."

He knew exactly how she felt.


	7. Chapter 7

_Day 76_

They had drifted back into "their" routine by the time Zekk found the first tabloid article. He hadn't been looking for it – in fact, it was the first cheap rag he had ever read. A customer had left it behind, and Mique noticed the image of Jaina. The other bartender had made a point of showing it to Zekk.

The article despaired of Jaina Solo "ever finding a healthy, monogamous relationship." The image had her plastered against Kyp Durron, who held her almost possessively close. The two Jedi looked completely riveted by each other.

Zekk reminded himself that tabloids usually stretched the truth.

_But_, part of him thought, _to stretch the truth, don't you have to start with something truthful?_

He didn't throw the tabloid away.

**_x-x-x_**

_Day 92_

"True or false: one underworld crimelord – we'll call him Cruxx – is _finally_ behind bars. For good."

Zekk and Jaina shared a grin as she sat (in her seat) at the bar. She leaned in as if sharing a confidence. "I do believe," she whispered, "that the given statement is _true_."

"Great job," he approved.

Although it contradicted everything he had seen of her so far, Zekk thought Jaina might have blushed – just a little. "Well, I only did the grunt work, really," she said. "But, since I'm the only one here… How about a brandy with a side of extra-salty, extra-greasy fries?"

"I'm sure you played an important part," he told her. His gaze stayed on her as he prepared her order.

He _must_ have imagined her blush, because Jaina flipped her hair with her cocky grin. "Well, duh."

"So, who else was on the case, anyway?" Zekk asked. He slid her fries across the counter.

Jaina smiled her thanks, then shrugged. "It was a pretty big operation," she told him. "We had people everywhere. But I was on the heading team with Jacen, Kyp, and Tenel Ka."

"Kyp as in Kyp Durron, huh?" he remarked, trying very hard to sound nonchalant.

Jaina chomped into one of her fries, and nodded absently as she chewed. "Yeah," she said after swallowing. "He was leading the mission. Left me to deflate his head every few days – he loves taking point – keeps crowing that it's because he's so much 'wiser.' My dear twin, of course, was too busy falling all over Tenel Ka to help."

"You must be close." At her raised eyebrow, Zekk added, "To…Kyp Durron, I mean."

She _looked_ at him for a moment, then stabbed a fry into her tomato paste. "I know you probably think he's a hero or a villain or at least some kind of important feature in a tabloid, but call him by one of his real names, please. 'Kyp,' preferably." She didn't look angry, only mildly – resignedly – annoyed.

Clearly, using the awkward, learned full version of a name was gauche to celebrities' friends. "Sorry. Kyp. Are you close to Kyp?"

Jaina ate two fries. "Yep." Oddly, the right corner of her mouth tilted upward as she took a gulp of her drink. When she looked up again, however, her lips had straightened. "These fries are great, you know. Exactly what I needed."

"Great," he replied inattentively. "So…"

She crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back in her seat. "'So'?" she repeated mildly.

"Is he – are you – is he your boyfriend?"

Jaina's expression seemed caught between amusement and annoyance – thankfully, she chose to react with the former. "I knew it." She snorted, shook her head, then let herself laugh.

"Knew what?" he asked in bemusement.

"Let me guess," she said. "_The Star_."

It took him a moment to realize she was naming the tabloid. "Jaina – "

"No? Not _The Star_? Because they love writing articles on my family, and the Jedi. And you've obviously seen something about Kyp and I."

Another faux pas, no doubt. Zekk winced. "I didn't mean – "

"No, no." Jaina waved a fry in the air. "It's okay." She almost sounded convinced, too. "You're new to this, after all. It's just – " Something gave, and she laughed again, more genuinely. "Stars, of all the articles… I don't suppose you still have it?" she asked wryly.

"Oh, well, not here," he muttered.

"Okay…." She gulped down some of her brandy, then leaned forward at the counter. "To answer your question: no. Kyp and I are not dating. Nor are we indulging ourselves in some kind of illicit affair – short- _or_ long-term – and denying it. No matter what the tabloids say. He's been a part of my life for a very long time; I adore and trust him. Despite the occasional bout of good-natured flirting, however, we have only ever been friends. I don't cheat, and neither does he."

"Cheat?"

She gave him a smile, and it was tinted with mischief. "Kyp is completely, madly, head-over-heels, can't-see-or-think-straight in love with a…friend…of mine." The word choice of "friend" seemed just slightly awkward. "Unless you've followed Kyp or I on the holo-net and in the tabloids, you probably don't know of her – Sanar?" He shook his head. "Well, they aren't together," Jaina continued. "But Kyp would never give up on her, and certainly not for a fling."

"And you?" Zekk asked. He was curious to discover the unfiltered truth about his famous friend.

"I'm seeing someone," she said with a shrug. A surprising grin flitted across her face. "And though I flatter myself to think I bring out his more roguish qualities, Jag is _not_ Kyp Durron. They don't even look that much alike."

Zekk's brow furrowed. "Did someone say they did? Look alike, I mean."

She rolled her eyes, and pulled out her wallet. "Only every tabloid, gossip, or biographer who has _ever_ talked about me. They both have dark hair and pale skin." She pulled out a 2D image of a solemn looking man of about Zekk's age. "And they both have greenish eyes. But the way the tabloids tell it, Jag and Kyp – and you, if they ever met you – were separated at birth." She made a face; her _can you even believe that?_ went unspoken.

His eyebrow raised at hearing his name clumped with people whose likenesses were probably in the holo-zines as often as Jaina's. "So what's he like? Your boyfriend – Jag?"

She smiled. "He's a nice guy – fighter pilot, like me, but more serious." Something impish flickered across her face. "Usually." She chewed on her lip thoughtfully, and picked up another fry. "He grew up in the Unknown Regions, but we'd met a few times a year even before we started dating." Laughing, Jaina added, "Usually at the – the really _awful_ society affairs that our parents would drag us to when we were kids. Anyway, he's currently an ambassador…of sorts…for his people." A grin. "As much as a pilot can be an ambassador."

Zekk frowned at her lack of starry eyes. "You aren't in love with him, are you."

Jaina blinked at him, as if curious about why this was brought into a conversation about her boyfriend. "Well, no," she said. "Not really." She glanced down briefly. "Not yet, at the very least. Jag and I – we aren't serious like that. Not every relationship has to be the 'be all to end all,' you know."

"Well, I didn't meant that – "

"He's a good guy," she continued. Now – though still without the dreamy, love-struck eyes – she seemed to drift from him. "He's smart, and always does what he believes is right. And he – he understands…being the fighter pilot offspring of celebrities. It's enough for now."

Vaguely disappointed – maybe he was a _bit_ – of a romantic – Zekk stole one of her fries. "Do you think it'll _get_ more serious?"

Jaina drummed her fingers on the bar thoughtfully. "I don't know," she finally said. "Maybe. Anything's possible, right? We're still getting to know each other as we steal some time together." She skipped a beat. "Mom loves him, of course. She thinks he's a 'stabilizing influence.' I almost feel sorry for her."

Zekk shrugged. "You never know."

Jaina gave him a look. "Zekk, c'mon. I'm a Jedi pilot." Her eyes slanted away from his. "Life's too short to settle down. I'd rather burn out as I am than live a nice, peaceful life with a 'good man' who comes home at 1800 for a carefully prepared home-cooked meal."

He frowned. He had heard people talk like Jaina before – people who burned too hard, too fast, and who preferred their death fighting. But it was different, coming from someone he cared about. He hesitated, then reached across the bar. His hand hovered a moment, then gently lowered onto hers.

Her fingers had been restlessly fidgeting, but stilled at his touch. She swallowed, and her lips tightened.

But then she was the Jedi "princess" again; she tossed her hair, took an impatient drink of her brandy, and smiled.

He thought: He had seen that smile a hundred times, in just as many holo-captured public appearances. He _might_ have imagined the self-deprecation in her eyes.

"Force," she said. Her voice was too light. "How did _that_ happen?"

But she didn't shake away his hand.


	8. Chapter 8

_Day 99_

"I was starting to think you wouldn't show up." Zekk grinned as he looked up at the door's tell-tale jangle. It was too early for the dinner crowd to arrive, and only regulars came in for a drink at this time of day. "You know, my shift is over – "

Jaina had fairly raced up to the bar. She radiated mischief and excitement; a smile stretched from one sunny side of her face to the other. At his words, she paused briefly. "You don't have plans, do you?" she asked, cutting him off. Some of the wind seemed to have been taken out of her sails. "Zekk?"

He raised an eyebrow, absently noting that she wore a well-worn flightsuit today, rather than her civvies. "With my tightly packed schedule?" he cracked. "Really, Jaina. You know I'm yours – I've given up on any other social life on the fifth day."

Immediately, she returned to being all things excited. "Great," she enthused. Without further explanation, she proceeded to drag him out of the Flash, and into a red speeder. She powered up, and flew (rather more daringly than he was used to) into First Tier traffic before Zekk managed to speak.

"Did you – did you just…kidnap me?"

Although in the middle of a sharp turn, Jaina looked over at him with an affectionate – but very impish – smirk. "'Course not. I'm so wonderful, no one _ever_ resists their desire to be around me. And how can you kidnap someone who wants to come?"

"Well, could you tell me where we're going, then?" he asked. His amusement at Jaina's antics was beginning to overtake his surprise.

She grinned at him, but turned back to the traffic. "Just wait and see. You'll love it," she added. "I promise."

"Well, if you _promise_."

"I've always kept my word – unless I'm lying – which I'm not. But – you'll see."

Half-way through their journey, Jaina pulled over to blindfold him. Her childlike joy kept him from protesting; he even played along, and repeatedly asked how much longer he would have to wait.

Finally, nearly an hour after his shift ended, Zekk felt the speeder slow down to its stop.

He reached up to his blindfold. "Can I take this off now?"

She helped him stand, and exit the speeder. "_No_, you can't. We're almost there."

"There" turned out to be a mostly empty aircraft base. Zekk allowed himself the luxury of a long stare before he asked Jaina what she meant by bringing him to what was obviously a military bay.

"This is the Rogue Squadron take-off bay," she explained. "We share it with a few other squadrons, but the Yellow Aces cancelled their scheduled practice for today." Unexpectedly, she seemed almost shy, and she cast her eyes away for a moment. "I remembered you said you wanted to learn how to fly. So." She pointed to a strange, stretched-looking ship. "That's what we'll be using."

Warily, he followed her to the craft. "Are you sure I shouldn't – I mean – I know the basics, from being a mechanic, but how can you teach me when I'm actually flying? What if I crash?"

Jaina gave him an indulgent look. "This – " she placed a hand on the ship's mismatched hull " – is Ewok. She's used just for training green trainees. There are two sets of controls – one for the teacher, and one for the student. If you decide to pull an amateur me, and try to crash, I'll take over before too much damage is done. You're in good hands."

He gave up on self-denial, and smiled at her. "Then how could I refuse?"

She returned his grin, and removed a flight suit from her bag. She was already wearing her own under her coat. "You can just put this over your clothes for now – Kyp let me borrow his old one. It'll be a little big, but it should be okay."

Kyp Durron was broader, and a little taller than Zekk, but the orphan was used to wearing clothes that didn't fit quite right. Within minutes, they were comfortably adjusted. Jaina had already climbed into the cockpit, and he was quick to take the pilot's seat beside her. She handed him a helmet. When he had it on properly, she quickly pulled on her own.

"You ready?" she said, smiling over at him as he finished buckling his crash webbing.

His nerves were jumbled, and his muscles were almost painfully tensed. His heart was beating too fast. His hands trembled. There was only one answer:

"Absolutely."

Jaina grinned that famous Solo grin. "Then what are we waiting for?"

**_x-x-x_**

Flying was a beautiful thing. Late that night, Zekk's heart still felt like pounding.

Flying was – an exhilarating, reckless, dizzying, breathless sensation that swept through his blood, and cleansed him of all his worries.

"I love this," Jaina had told him when they landed. She had leaned back in her seat, and given him a warm, contended smile. "I just…_love_ it. I don't know how anyone can be scared of it."

He had released the steering gently. In response to her statement, he had been capable only of grinning like an idiot.

"I think falling in love must be like flying." Jaina had stared out of the viewport, her crash webbing half-unbuckled. "What do you think?"

It had momentarily distracted Zekk from the flying-induced high. "Is that what you feel about Jag, then?"

She had rolled her eyes. "I've already told you I'm not in love with him. We've only gone out on a few dates." She sighed, and patted Ewok's control board. "This just makes me think it'd be worth it. But falling in love…it just seems like such a—a dangerous thing. All the risks of flying, times a thousand. Like you could fly off course, or miscalculate and end up in a black hole, at any moment, even if you do everything right."

"Or you could find a new, untouched paradise," he'd remarked.

"Wouldn't that be wonderful?" She had looked so very wistful.

For some reason, the conversation was stuck in his mind, as close as the experience of flight. Jaina's love of flying had been so characteristically brash and passionate – but somehow deeper, more untouched, than most of their conversations – uncovering more of her to his eyes.

_Falling in love…it just seems like such a—a dangerous thing. All the risks of flying, times a thousand. Like you could fly off course, or miscalculate and end up in a black hole, at any moment… _

Jaina's parents were, by all accounts, a genuine love-match. Tabloids liked to photograph Leia Organa Solo without her ring, and Han Solo with an unfamiliar woman. Rags liked to demand if it was over – if someone was cheating – if someone had asked for a divorce lawyer. Even when the couple denied it – _especially_ when they denied it. But whether or not any of that was true (and Jaina's disgust with tabloids suggested the negative), the Solo couple's start had been uncalculated. No matter how sketchy it might have been for Han Solo to _kidnap_ his future wife. By now, everyone insisted the situation had called for "desperate measures," whatever that meant.

The more Zekk read about Jaina's parents, however, the more he became intrigued…and perplexed.

Before his marriage to a political figurehead (and future Chief-of-State), Han Solo had been a nobody. He had started out as an orphan pickpocket, and was kicked out of the Imperial army years later. He turned to smuggling—then, suddenly, became a Rebel hero. The man had no position he had not gained himself; many of his original possessions had some kind of…interesting…story behind their ownership. He had little to offer a princess and political leader.

A nobody fell in love with a princess – it seemed like something straight out of a fairy tale. Such relationships weren't supposed to happen in real life. They went against – against the laws of nature. There had to be far more to Han Solo than was shown in his profile. Secret ties to royalty, perhaps? Connections to celebrities other than his wife's family, or inherited wealth.

Nobodies – people like Zekk – didn't just fall in love with the "other people." And _they_ – the rich, the beautiful, the famous – certainly didn't fall in love back. Even if their hands were grease-stained.

Right?

Zekk – home alone, with a second-hand piloting guide data sheet in his hands – shook himself.

Why did it even matter?


	9. Chapter 9

_Day 148_

She sat down while his back was turned. Zekk had been preparing a brandy in anticipation of her arrival. Despite that, he startled when he turned and saw her.

"Wes Janson made his squadron colours yellow and black." Jaina stared blankly past him. If asked, he would have guessed that she had wandered into the Flash with the expression pinned to her face for hours already. "_Yellow and black_. They look like a hoard of giant bumblebees. Who picks such awful colours for their squadron?"

"Wes Janson?" Zekk repeated, belatedly giving Jaina her drink. "The fighter pilot?"

She took the brandy, but barely seemed to notice it. "Somebody gave him a squadron, and now he's a fighter pilot colonel." She gave him a look that was slightly wild. "It hurts my head. Wes as an authority figure. Force."

He frowned. "Isn't he – I'd heard he was a good pilot…."

Jaina started to give him a look, then seemed to remember something. "Sorry, I keep forgetting you don't know…. Yeah, he's a good pilot. He's just got the maturity of a six-year-old. No," she added thoughtfully. "That might be insulting. To six-year-olds."

Zekk didn't remark on her casual opinion of a famous Rebel pilot. He would react later, the way he usually did.

He said only, "Jealous much?"

She made a face, and threw a nut at him.

**_x-x-x_**

_Day 166_

Zekk didn't frequent clubs that much. Several disastrous blind dates, one ugly break-up, and enough nights being a third wheel had ruined the experience for him. Despite that, he had managed to be roped into going to _Revashed_ with Mique, Cel and Dalan. Mique could, unfortunately, be rather persuasive, especially when it came to treating his cousins to a night out.

Even with the disorientation of returning to the club scene, _Revashed_ was strange. It secretly catered to a certain group. Known for its discretion, and for intentionally excluding any members of the press, it frequently drew the slightly more famous than average. Not the holo-stars or political celebrities, exactly, but more often the family members hoping to make a name for themselves outside of the tabloids.

Mique, his cousin, and Cel were soon swallowed by the bustling crowd. Zekk watched them go; he really should have expected this abandonment, despite Mique's demands that he come along. At least, he thought, it hadn't turned out to be a blind date. He had a bad record with clubs; he had an even worse one with blind dates at clubs.

Something caught his attention, drew him in. A laugh and an exuberant voice, which he almost heard in snatches over the chaos. The owner had to be close for him to hear that much. Lost in the crowd, it took him at extra moment to realize why the sound tugged at him.

Jaina. Jaina's laugh, Jaina's enthusiasm. He turned around and used his height advantage to see over the crowd. The strobe lights made it more difficult. The music pounded against his skull. Beings of all species bristled against him – dancing, coming, going, living. When he had almost given up on that girl, she bumped into him – Hurricaine Jaina domesticated for an upcity club. She almost knocked him over.

"Hey, sorry," she spluttered, laughing. "People really like pushing – Zekk?" Jaina finally looked at him, her eyes wide.

"You don't miss a thing," he yelled over the crowd.

She grinned then, her eyes sparkling. "That's why I'm a Jedi," she agreed. Her eyes slid around him. "Are you here with someone?"

The crowd swelled around them, causing Jaina to stumble into him. She really was quite small, despite her presence. He caught her when she tripped; he tipped his head to the left. She nodded, and followed him to the wall.

"My friends are around here somewhere," he said, gesturing vaguely. "I'm not much of a…" He trailed off, really looking at her for the first time. Clearly, Jaina _was_ a club type. Her hair was pinned up, though a third of it was in the process of falling down. It looked as glossy as her makeup: cherry red lips, and a shimmer across her cheeks. Her top was conservative compared to some, but he was pretty sure it showed more than a little of her bare back. In retrospect, he could feel the warmth of her skin against his hand. And he was certain that none of her parents (real, foster, or surrogate) knew she owned a skirt that short.

"Obviously you are," he finished.

She shrugged. "I like dancing. And the others wanted to come. Oh, hey, you can finally meet them." She looked very pleased.

Before he realized it, she had grabbed his hand and was dragging him into the eye of the storm. Before he could blink, Zekk was shaking the hands of Raynar Thul, Jacen Solo, and Jag Fel – Jaina's pilot boyfriend. He didn't really look like he fit in, either. He introduced himself with his rank: "Colonel Jagged Fel."

Jaina playfully elbowed her boyfriend. "Okay, Jag, enough with the first-impression-for-the-Chiss. If I'm wearing a skirt, then _you_ can relax." She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Jag's shoulders did seem to relax as he smiled at her.

The music faded briefly before switching to a song only slightly different. Jaina brightened. "Excellent. Zekk – you, me, dance floor, now. I love this song, and Jag only knows ballroom."

Jag rolled his eyes, but seemed more amused than anything. "I prefer a civilized form of dancing. Is that so wrong?"

Zekk was pretty sure the colonel was kidding. It was difficult to tell. "I don't really dance, either," he tried to protest. Jaina either didn't hear him, or had decided to ignore him. She grabbed both Zekk's hands and pulled him into the fray. It reminded him of when she had brought him blindfolded to the landing bay. Except he _really_ couldn't dance.

Jaina grinned at his awkward movements, and stepped closer. "Try to feel the beat, first," she told him. She wasn't laughing out loud, but he could see it in her eyes. Strange, now, how he had thought her only passably, averagely pretty when they first met. Her eyes were –

Maybe it was the dark, or the erratic lights, or Jaina's own force of will, but Zekk felt the music's beat.


	10. Chapter 10

_Day 167_

Zekk was late, and he burned his tongue on his hastily purchased caf. He could only hope it would wake him up soon. His head still ached from the music and the late night, never mind the effect of his few hours of sleep snatched this morning. Peckhum would think –

"Were you in a hover crash?" the old man demanded, as soon as Zekk stepped through the hangar door. The cargo shipper was crouched under the _Lightning Rod_'s belly; he spared Zekk a glance. "Certainly late enou – kriffing space ghost." Peckhum doubled back, suddenly noticing the state of his ward. "You _were_ in a wreck, weren't you?"

Zekk thought of several cracks about Jaina as a force of nature, but rejected them. "I was up late last night."

Peckhum eyed the younger man, askance, as Zekk walked over to him. "And this morning, too, by the look of it."

Zekk winced as something very heavy and metal clanged to the shared hangar floor. He took another gulp of his caf. "Don't remind me." He nodded at the _Rod_. "Are the lights still fading?"

Peckhum was still watching him. "Finish your drink first. I want you awake when you dig into my ship. Was she there?"

With his tongue burned, Zekk's drink tasted strange, extra bitter, extra hot. He swallowed another mouthful, and ran his tongue against his teeth. He met Peckhum's eyes warily over his thermos. "Sorry?"

Peckhum's grizzled face split in a grin. "That means yes. Or that you were _really_ drunk last night, and can't remember."

Zekk gulped the rest of his caf; his fingers were tight around the cup, but one tapped nervously in spite of his control. "I'm awake," he insisted, looking for a refuse bin. "Let's get started; I have to work tonight."

"Is this her day?"

"No," Zekk answered before he had thought it out. He threw the cup too hard, and it banged against the rim before sinking deep into the bin. "What?" He hurried up the ramp, keen to mire himself in the engines.

Peckhum was chuckling behind him. "I want to meet this girl. You hear me, boy? _Before_ the wedding."

**_x-x-x_**

_Day 190_

Jaina was engrossed in her datapad when she walked into the Flash. Her smile was absent at the corners, even as her eyebrows rose at her reading. Zekk settled with a rare crowd before pouring a glass of brandy. Mique was smirking at him; Zekk avoided his co-worker's eyes as he tossed his apron to the side.

Jaina didn't look up right away when he sat down, though her hand closed around the glass he had deposited before her. "Mission brief?" he asked, trying to get a peek.

She snorted into her drink, putting it down as she covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes were watering as her smile sharpened. It took her an extra minute to swallow without choking. She coughed twice, and pushed the datapad across the table.

He looked down, bemused before he read the headline. "You made out with Kyp Durron?" Jaina's laughter became louder. When her shining eyes met his, he felt a smile grow on his own face. "Obviously not."

"It doesn't even look like me!" she protested, jabbing a finger at the image. "And it's from years ago, too – his hair's practically _shaved_, it's kind of conspicuous. If they thought it was Jag and I, maybe – "

"I thought they gave up on you and Kyp."

Jaina rolled her eyes as she searched her numerous pockets for something. "They never give up on the idea of Kyp and I. We are the Epic Love of tabloids. Ah, right, for the brandy." She spilled some credits on the table. "We got caught once, and ever since – this was a couple years ago – but anyway."

"Why are you even reading this?" He scrolled through the article, and was surprised to see another headline.

"Jacen sent one to me for a laugh, and I started browsing a bit. So far, Kyp and I are secretly married with a kid, Jag has demanded I give up being a Jedi to be a Chiss housewife, and I've sworn off men altogether in my heartbreak – I haven't bounced back since Raynar chose another woman over me." She paused, and grinned. "That'd be so much funnier if you knew Raynar Thul, his eyesore robes, and his longtime girlfriend, Lusa."

She scooped the credits into one hand. "Look, I'm just going to go pay Mique before a tabloid runs a story about me being stingy."

He nodded absently, scrolling through the articles. Some of them were about people he knew only from headlines, if at all – inside jokes from a world to which he was only tenuously connected. His lips curled in a smile as he imagined Jaina's reaction to rumours of her pregnancy with no less than the Hapan prince consort. How could she complete any undercover missions with this scrutiny?

Jaina, when he asked her later, smiled. Her face moved begrudgingly to accommodate her, and he was surprised at his own reaction. She looked pallid and cynical; he remembered her suspicion during the Cruxx mission. "I don't do anything stupid," she told him, looking away. When her eyes returned to his, they were closed off. "And hope they don't read rags." Her face loosened. "But then, I'm not as recognizable in person. For one thing, I've never glued hair pastries to my head – I don't know what my mom was thinking, 'traditional Alerdaani hairstyle' or no. And I tend to wear a lot more flightsuits than dresses."

Zekk was not prepared to let it go. "Still – "

"You didn't recognize me, did you?" she pointed out. "Even with my first name."

He noted the darkness of her eyes, the long, faint scar below one of them, and the incongruous gloss on her lips. (She wasn't smiling.) "It's dangerous, isn't it," he said, and it was as strange as the fact that he had never thought of it that way before. "Especially with these."

Her lips stretched; it became a grin as she took the datapad from him. "Did you read the one where I call the Jedi Order a dangerous cult?"


	11. Chapter 11

_Day 232_

Zekk stayed late to help with a rush.  In the steady stream of customers and delayed breaks, he didn't notice until Jaina was at least three hours late.  The mug he had been lifting banged against the counter edge, sloshing some of its contents onto his wrist.  He cursed, his cheeks flaming.  He put the mug back down to top it off once more.  He served it with an apology to the impatient Bothan, and dried his hand with a rough cloth.

They didn't have a decided meeting time.  She had called it the "regular day" only that one time, and had referred before to her unpredictable schedule.  She had missed days before – but then she had always let him know ahead of time.

Mique was watching him with a raised eyebrow; Zekk wasn't usually that clumsy.  The dark-skinned man looked down at his chrono suddenly, and smirked as he figured it out.  "What'd you do, man?"

Zekk ignored him.  Jaina never showed.

**_x-x-x_**

"_I can't talk long_," whispered a comm message that night, when he flicked the machine on.  "_And I can't talk about it, either, but I have to leave for a few weeks.  I'm sorry, I'll_ – " And it cut off with a muffled curse.

**_x-x-x_**

_Day 239_

If not for the lightsaber, Zekk might have kept walking out the door.  His day wasn't going well, between customers' irritability and his own bad temper, and with only a cramped, empty flat and a week (or lifetime) of similar shifts ahead of him.  Even when he saw the metal cylinder, Zekk had to tamp down on the day's reflexive irritation to approach the other man.

The Jedi's dark hair was no more in check than his aura, which marked him as a dangerous element even without Zekk's suspicion that this was Kyp Durron.  The bartender stiffened his back, and met the other man's eyes.  "Can I help you with something?"

The Jedi stopped scanning the room to scrutinize Zekk.  "I'm looking for Zekk.  That you?"

"For a while now.  Are you Kyp Durron?"

"I'm a friend of Jaina's – she wanted me to give you a message.  Over there," Kyp said, nodding toward a booth in the back.  "I'd rather not be overheard."

Kyp remained silent even a few minutes after they had sat down, instead letting the full weight of his stare work on Zekk's nerves.  Satisfied, at least, that Jaina had neither died nor come to her senses, Zekk refused to speak first.  He had survived the Corsucanti underbelly and the Lost Ones; he could deal with someone staring at him.

"I can't tell you much," Kyp finally said.  "Just that she's on a mission, and you can't talk about it at all, not even the fact that she's disappeared, if you can.  We're hoping the tabloids will push their own story in her absence – she could be gone for a while, so she might be pregnant again."  Kyp smirked, and the glint in his eyes told Zekk why Jaina and this man were so close.  The havoc they must wreak together gave him a headache.

"You don't have any more idea how long she'll be gone?"

The smirk smoothed out, and Zekk realized that Kyp was uneasy.  "At least a month," the Jedi said after a pause.  "Probably two, just as likely more than that.  There's no specific timeframe set."

"Shouldn't you be with her?  Or – is someone else?  It's just, from what she's said, I thought you were partners."

Kyp scowled, not at Zekk.  "It doesn't really work like that on missions.  Jaina's a Knight; sometimes she has solo missions, while otherwise she might be paired with another Jedi, depending on the difficulty or danger of the mission.  This time, perhaps no one suitable could be spared, or the mission didn't allow for a second person.  Or maybe she just…refused a partner this time."

"But she has no backup, then."

Kyp's face was set in tight lines.  "No.  She doesn't."

Zekk took a deep breath, remembering the Cruxx investigation.  "I don't know what Jaina has said about me – "

Kyp's face split in a grin born from years of chaos.  "More than she meant to, I think.  And then some more."

Not knowing how to take that comment, Zekk let it pass.  "I'm just – concerned about her."  He remained sitting.

The other man sighed.  "She does this sometimes.  She takes risks that maybe she shouldn't."  Kyp's lips curled just slightly before he refocused.  "But she can take care of herself; she's a born fighter, for all she needs to stop and think sometimes."

"It's dangerous, isn't it."  Zekk hadn't wanted to think about it, but the possibilities had been playing non-stop since she hadn't shown last week.

"A lot of our work is," Kyp hedged.  "But some of them – we can't talk about.  I shouldn't even be telling you this much – it's against protocol – but Jaina insisted.  She didn't want to worry you, but you won't hear from her.  It's too sensitive."

Zekk opted not to mention the comm message, increasingly convinced that Jaina had burned a rulebook by leaving it.  He drummed his fingers against the table, but nodded tersely.  He didn't feel any less worried.  "Thank you.  For telling me.  If there are any updates – if she's – " He couldn't quite put his fears on the table.

Kyp leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest.  Somehow, he seemed larger now – more intimidating, his aura of danger magnified, even to Zekk's steady nerves.  "I can't promise anything.  This is our life – Jaina's life.  If anyone finds out I came down here, she could be in even more trouble.  She asked me," Kyp said harshly, sensing Zekk's next question.  "And you might have said something, otherwise."

Zekk's jaw tightened at the implication.  Kyp couldn't have made it more clear that he didn't think much of Jaina's lower-city friend, and it was the topper on a very long day.  "Thank you, then," he said, aware of the sharpness in his voice.  "I'll let you get back to – "

"Carida was a long time ago," Kyp said suddenly.  "For others.  I'm a different person.  But if the Jedi have a mission that may require – a strong hand – I'm the first name that comes to mind."  The aura of power grew, deliberately pressing down on Zekk.  "I'm not someone you want to get on the wrong side of.  The Solos are the closest thing to a family I have, and Jaina is one of my closest friends.  If you hurt Jaina, you'll have a long list of people after you, and I'll be first in line."  Kyp's smile, this time, gave no pretence of mischief, but Zekk had no doubt that the other man was enjoying this.  "Do you understand me?"

Zekk's own anger surged in challenge.  "I wouldn't say anything to endanger her," he snapped, rising.

"I wasn't talking about the mission," Kyp said, all the more threatening as he subsided.  "I said if you _hurt_ one of my friends, I will tear you apart."  He stood, saluted with his deactivated lightsaber, and went merrily on his way with a swirl of his black cape.

"Hurt her?" Zekk finally demanded, half-way home.  What exactly had Jaina told him?


	12. Chapter 12

_Day 240_

Zekk scavenged the holo-reports for any hint of where Jaina might be, in secret, in danger.

There was an assassination attempt on Gruxbahn, and a bloody escalation between slaver gangs on Tatooine had a civilian death toll. Anti-Republic sentiment grew on the Outer Rim. A Corellian senator went missing. The Kessel mines revolted again. An article on Xavac xenophobia was published, with the author disappearing the next day.

Peckhum asked about meeting Jaina. Zekk told him she was training off-world and wouldn't be around for a while.

**_x-x-x_**

_Day 246_

The tabloids didn't pay much mind at first, and let her drift behind others' headlines. When they caught on, they tripped over each other to fill the vacuum. Her family had been worried about her drinking, about the partying and the friends she kept – they had finally staged an intervention, and Jaina had either run off or submitted to rehab. Her family's worry lines made it one of the _Star_'s less implausible ideas.

Another tabloid insisted their photographer had been the last to see her, plastered to Kyp Durron in one of their "famous" lovers' spats, right before he pulled a Han Solo, and kidnapped Jaina to convince her that they belonged together. Or perhaps, another suggested, the man had been the missing Corellian senator. The lighting hadn't been the best, after all.

One penned a small blurb, and buried it in the glossiest rumours, that wondered what the Solo rebel girl was doing on Quec'slig.

A week later, someone found a fuzzy holo-image that suggested Jaina Solo had been gaining wait before her disappearance. A day after that, it was everyone's informed source on the identity of the secret baby's father.

**_x-x-x_**

_Day 250_

Everyone knew about Quec'slig, just as nobody talked about it, and no one tried to save it anymore. New Republic law was not welcomed on the planet run by crime lords and slave masters.

In the time after Jaina's disappearance, the reports came slowly to a resigned galaxy: first the rumours of a war, then mass murders, and finally the list of Jedi who had disappeared there.

Zekk knew, with the certainty of his best and worst scavenges, exactly where Jaina was.

**_x-x-x_**

_Day 281_

Zekk didn't let himself search for Jaina anymore; he couldn't look away from the few reports on Quec'slig. He couldn't risk missing news.

**_x-x-x_**

_Day 302_

Zekk picked up extra hours at the Flash, and successfully bullied Peckhum's hangar manger into letting him collect the occasional shift there as well.

He went to the upper levels on one of his rare days off, and found Jaina's apartment despite himself. Sometimes, his scavenger's hunches were more trouble than they were worth. He turned to walk back, and instantly knew that Jaina's window would be front-facing: a deep well of space in the crammed city spanned before the apartment, and in the middle of it was the Rogues' landing bay.

She had been teaching him to fly in her own backyard.

**_x-x-x_**

_Day 316_

What had Jaina said, so long ago? _I guess you missed your calling… You'd fit right in with the Jedi. Amidst tea and meditation_. Nearly three months since she had vanished, Zekk wished he had something to believe in.

He watched every holo-report with dread, waiting for the slack jaws, and the wild eyes, and "_Jaina Solo, hero of the New Republic, has been added to the list of the Quec'slig_ – "

He listened to Jaina's last message five times, and then deleted it.

**_x-x-x_**

_Day 337_

Zekk knew, as soon as he stepped into his flat, that someone was there. All the locks were undamaged, everything looked untouched, but his adrenaline spiked, and he felt the intrusion in every one of his nerve endings.

"Sorry," said a voice. It was raspy, throttled even, but loud in the silence. "I got tired of the looks, outside."

Zekk whirled, even recognizing the voice. He could just barely sketch her outline in his armchair. Zekk stumbled as he searched for the light switch. His chest felt tight; his breaths were too shallow, but it ached to reach for more. He activated the lights.

Jaina sat in his armchair, one of her legs crossed beneath her. The pose appeared as calm as every strained muscle indicated she was not. She looked her size for the first time that he had seen. She smiled at him, and he wished she hadn't. "I just couldn't – " She cleared her throat, and her voice was a little smoother as she corrected, "didn't – want to go down to the Flash."

"You didn't walk here, did you?"

Jana glanced down at her hanging leg, and then at the crutches lying on the floor by her foot. "It's only a sprain," she said. "My hand was worse. It'll be fine by tomorrow. But no – Kyp dropped me off. He gave you my message, right?"

Zekk swallowed – her _face_ – and forced his feet to move. "Yeah, he came down to the Flash." He approached her slowly, pulling one of the kitchen chairs to stop across from her. He straddled the chair, folding his arms across the top. He was not quite prepared to have so little space between them. He could see the angry red slash that bisected her lips, now, and he hoped her smile wasn't as painful as it looked.

She kept smiling. "Good. Good – I asked him to, but sometimes – by which I mean always – he can be stubborn and difficult, but I didn't want you to worry, or to think that – "

"What happened to you?" The words refused to stay in his throat.

One of Jaina's hands was cradling the other, and her fingers tightened for half a second. "Kyp – you said Kyp told you, I was on a mission."

"He _did_, but – "

"I can't talk about the mission," she insisted. Her voice lapsed back into its full rasp as she became more upset.

"Okay, okay," he said quickly, thinking of the bare facts he had been able to scrounge. "I'm not asking for the details." He paused, waiting for her eyes to meet his. "When did you get back?"

Jaina's forehead creased. She looked exhausted. "Last…morning? Last night? I'm still – readjusting."

"Okay. Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

She looked down. "I'm fine."

"I'll get you some water." He rose too quickly, and stepped away from her. She didn't look up. Her face was much thinner, her features more striking than he remembered, and it cast harder shadows. He told himself that his memory could be playing tricks on him.

The silence weighed him down, but he had filled two glasses with water and returned before he understood it. He gave her one of the waters, pulled his seat a little closer, and then sat once more. "You were gone over three months."

Jaina was staring at her water. "That's what they told me in the prelim briefing. Longer than we were expecting, but – " She took a slow drink. "Some things you can't help."

Zekk just wished she would _do_ something. "It was bad, wasn't it."

"The mission…was bad." Her words were very careful. "The setting was also not good. And it did not go half so well as we were hoping."

His eyes traced the yellowing bruise under her eye, the scratches and nicks across her face, neck, and hands to the wrist. The rest of her body was encased in black clothing, and the armour hid any other injuries. "Did you have to fight?"

Her knuckles were tight around the glass. The skin of her wrists was particularly red in comparison. She snorted as if he could not see this. "Many times."

He tried to draw her out. "I suppose you've been swinging a lightsaber since the cradle."

"Oh, no, I have pretty boys who take care of that for me." Her grin, although tired, was slightly more real this time.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he said. "Jedi are probably better at it, this sort of thing, if you want."

"I told you I can't – "

"About what happened to _you_, I mean," he corrected her. He didn't mean for his eyes to linger on her wrists, but she must have noticed, because she flinched. "Even with your family, right? You have annual close calls, there's probably bureaucracy involved. Do they know where you are?"

"Kyp flew me here," she pointed out. "I handed in my prelim, and then told the Masters I'd be back tomorrow, or – well, long missions like – I have a few days' grace, to gather my thoughts. They probably think I'm either drunk or passed out right now."

"Do you need a ride back?" Seeing her expression, he was quick with his alternative. "Or if you need someplace to crash…?" He coloured, and ran an uncomfortable hand through his hair.

"Can I?" Her response was immediate. "I just – I just needed to get out of there. And – I don't really – "

The look in her eyes reminded Zekk of after Brakiss had captured him, though it felt much worse seeing it from Jaina. He had stayed with an unsuspecting Peckhum for a week after his own escape. Zekk moved his thoughts away from that time. The worst he had gotten from Brakiss was prejudicial ramblings and a beating. "It's not exactly what you're used to," he warned his friend.

Jaina rolled her eyes, apparently bouncing back, if slowly. "You've never seen Jedi rooms, let alone military barracks. After sleeping on rocks for the past couple months, I'll gleefully take your rug. Or this chair, even," she said, patting one of its ratty arms. "This chair will be perfect."

"You don't have to – that is, I'll – " Zekk wasn't sure if his skin had ever been this red. An image came to him of – and _well_, the day's dread and relief and adrenaline, mixed with this, threw him completely off balance.

Jaina, for her part, looked genuinely amused even with her responding blush. "Who's the knight in tarnished armour, here? Besides, you're way too tall for this chair, and I'm the one crashing. I'm not _that_ much of a princess."

"Whatever you say, Princess. I'll get some ointment for your wrists, though; you need them for both your jobs." He ignored the way she pulled her sleeves to cover the burns.

"I can speed up the healing," she said. "A bit," she conceded at his look. "Well, I put bacta on it, and I'll have my whole family fussing over them tomorrow. I really just want to sleep for a while."

"It'll only take a minute," he said, already rummaging through one of his cupboards. His voice remained firm. He had not forgotten the months of worrying. "It isn't bacta, but it should help." Finding the jar and some bandages, he took both back to the kitchen table. "Can you walk over here, or do you need a hand?"

She scowled at him, but limped over without significant difficulty. "I'm a little useless if I can't work through a little pain. _Do you need a hand_, please."

"You sure are cranky when you're hurt. Sit down, and put your wrists on the table."

She did so, and even pulled at her sleeve to expose her right forearm. "You'll have to pull the other one," she said in a flat voice. "My right hand is…well, it's still healing."

Zekk nodded, and took a deep breath to steady himself. Exhausted and injured or not, Jaina would run if he reacted to her wounds, and this day had been just enough of an emotional whirlwind for him to forget it.

Whatever the Jedi Healers and bacta had managed to do for Jaina, it hadn't been enough for her wrists. There was no blood or open wounds, but the skin was raw and a livid red, the worst of it two inches off her wrist bone. Whether they had been actual metal cuffs or something charged, she had fought them. He put the image aside for later.

Aside from a wrinkle of her nose at the smell, Jaina's face remained calm as he applied the salve. "What is this?"

"Something Peckhum uses for burns on his hands, when he's doing repairs. It's cheaper than bacta."

"Smells worse."

"The worse it smells, the better it works. Like cough syrup."

"Or it's insult to injury."

"Princess."

"Vent crawler." Her mouth tugged at one corner.

He smoothed the last bit of ointment over the raw skin, willing it work quickly. He started bandaging her wrists. "Damsel."

She smacked him in the shoulder. With her left hand newly bandaged, it was more of a reassuring bump. "_Damsel_," she sneered. "As if."

"In _distress_," he insisted, wrapping her right hand as gently as he could.

"I'll show _you_ distress."

He made sure to tighten the bandage on her left hand. "Tomorrow. You're practically swaying, you're so tired."

"Shut up, I could take you – " Her face split in an enormous yawn.

"Nice tonsils."

" – blindfolded, and surrounded by ysalamiri, and – and with my legs bounds – " She could barely keep her eyes open.

"You wouldn't need that blindfold, at this point," he said, grinning, as he pulled her up out of the chair.

"When I was _four_," she finished triumphantly. He had only pulled her halfway to the armchair when Jaina pulled out of his supporting hold. She almost crashed back into the chair.

"Yeah, you've got me pinned. I wouldn't last a minute, street rat or no. I'm going to get you a blanket. Could you please not drool on the arm of my chair?"

He left her curling up in the armchair, still throwing out the occasional insult.

His spare blanket hadn't seen the light of day in years, and he had to dig before finding it under a broken X-wing console that he had scavenged before starting his job at the Flash. The blanket smelled like an engine, but he suspected Jaina wouldn't even notice.

Zekk expected her to be asleep when he came back; he left the lights off, and walked with care. When he unfolded the blanket, however, Jaina looked up with wide eyes. She wasn't seeing him. "I killed people."

He stared at her, frozen. "Jaina – "

"Not just a few people. Not just on – while I was gone. And I couldn't – "

He was released to move, and did so quickly, tucking the blanket around her and folding it up for more warmth. She didn't take up much room. "Sh, just sleep now, okay?"

"There were so many – and I couldn't save them, so many people were dying – "

"Jaina." He turned her chin to look up at him. "You're safe, and it'll be – " He decided not to finish his sentence. "You need to sleep."

She closed her eyes, took a shuddering breath, and released. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just sleep." Something swept through him, but he ignored it. "We can talk in the morning if you like."

She was already asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

_Day 338_

When he stepped out of his room that morning, Zekk was surprised to see Jaina already awake. She was sitting on the living room floor with her legs crossed beneath her. Her hair was pulled away from her face, and it looked slightly damp. She smiled at him. "Morning." The cut across her lips was gone.

She didn't look awkward, and he took his cue from her. "Morning. I thought you'd still be asleep."

She shrugged, and stretched her legs out before her. "I'm used to early mornings. I've just been taking stock, meditating…that sort of thing. I was going to try to do some healing, but – " She held out her bare wrists. "They're hardly even itchy."

He took the proffered hands and pulled her up before studying her unmarked wrists. "Not even a scar. Did you do that, while you were sleeping?"

She looked surprised, then laughed. "Please, me? I flunked all my healing classes. My uncle, king of patience, finally gave up on me. I couldn't even manage a healing trance last night – it's work for me."

"Then…a delayed reaction from one of the Jedi Healers?" he tried. "Or the bacta."

"Or that salve." She had an odd look on her face. "What was in it?"

He shrugged, uncomfortable. "Some herbs, I've never really asked. Peckhum bought it a while ago, and gave some to me. I haven't used it much; I never thought it worked this well. It must have been a delayed reaction."

"Well, thank you, anyway." She took her hands back slowly, still scrutinizing them. "I wasn't looking forward to people's reactions."

"You must be hungry," he said, clearing his throat. "I only have toast and – some eggs, I think."

"I'm not picky – maybe just some toast? I'd offer to help, but I…don't mix well with kitchens. Not even toasters. And people get hurt when I hold a knife for too long – I just can't kick the violence habit."

He spared her a quick glance, remembering the previous night, but her smirk was only self-deprecating. "How do you even survive?"

"With lots of take-out," she quickly replied. "But really, most of the time I'm at the landing bay, so I'll eat at the mess there, or in Coruscant Jedi quarters. Or I just mooch." She grinned.

"Is it mooching if you have to do the dishes?" he asked. He dropped two pieces of bread into the toaster. While he was waiting, he retrieved an egg from the fridge, and made a mental note to buy more. Turning his back to crack the egg, he heard Jaina step up to the edge of the kitchen.

"Zekk, I – "

The egg broke cleanly, and he let it spread before he glanced over his shoulder. "Fair's fair, Princess."

"Okay, but I meant – I wanted to…to apologize. For last night, I mean." Her face was strangely composed, unexpectedly the Jedi Knight after breaking a little on his armchair, even after the morning's inherent awkwardness. "Barging in and crashing, just out of the blue."

Uncomfortable, Zekk prodded the egg, and then flipped it. "You don't need to apologize, Jaina. I was worried about you, so it was a relief to know – And what are friends for? How do you drink your caf?"

She ignored his attempt to divert the conversation. "Also, for – what I said. I'm sorry you had to hear that."

He wondered who they had been, if they were the people who had held her captive, and if her mission had failed. He wondered if she had done this before, or if it would be her first time recovering from it. Probably not, he thought – she had said something about others.

"I forgot," she was saying, still apologizing. "You aren't…used to friends just…vanishing without a word, then showing up and talking about people they killed while they were gone." She paused, and some of her usual good humour darted across her face. "At least, I hope you aren't."

The toast popped. "Right, it's not my world, I couldn't handle it."

Jaina's voice tightened, and he knew she was rolling her eyes. "Don't be stupid – you know I don't think that. It's just a…shock for people. There are other Jedi who would be thrown by it, but most of them will have to deal with death, or at the very least get used to seeing their friends tread water, so to speak."

"You're my friend, Jaina. I'd better get used to it. Now button it before you turn this into a fight. You still have to eat breakfast."

When he turned around, two plates in hand, he was surprised by a hug. "I missed you, you know," Jaina said into his shoulder.

He was deleting all the Quec'slig holo-reports as soon as he had a chance. "I missed my flying lessons."

She gave an indignant snort, laughed, and let go to punch him in the arm. "I knew you only hung out with me for my bay access key. Jerk."

They didn't talk about the mission again for the rest of the day.


	14. Chapter 14

_Day 358_

"I think you might be getting worse," Jaina mused when they entered the hallway. "In fact, almost killing someone almost definitely counts as getting worse."

"I swerved with plenty of time," Zekk protested, leading the way to his door. "And it wasn't _someone_, it was one of those automated traffic pots. We aren't even talking AI, here."

"They're the size of small Hutts, they're painted bright red, and you still managed to almost hit it. Also, it made that sparking, squealing sound. That could have been your first victim, Ace."

"I learned everything I know from my trainer. At least _I_ can miss a whole row of _mansions_."

The sound of her laughter followed him into the flat, and he turned back to see her. The laughs were slowly coming in more steadily since Quec'slig, but Zekk still derived some relief each time. In this case, however, it made him inattentive to his surroundings.

"You only wish I had taught you _half_ of what I know, youngling," Jaina crowed.

"And the First Tier Botanical Estates were…?"

"At least I was a good fifteen years younger than you are."

"Excuses, excuses – "

Peckhum coughed, and sidestepped Zekk before the young man could walk into him. "Am I interrupting something?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Zekk saw Jaina's hand drop to her lightsaber, and then just as quickly fall free. At least, he thought, he wasn't the only one taken off guard. "No, of course not – what are you talking about?" Babbling, Zekk reminded himself, was not the way to deal with Peckhum's curiosity. He shut up for the moment, inappropriately nervous.

Jaina paused a half-second longer than Zekk would have expected, but she stepped up with her usual cockiness. "I'm Jaina. Solo. You must be Peckhum." Her smile was almost as mischievous as Peckhum's own, and it worried Zekk. "I've heard so much about you – I'm hoping you can return Zekk's favour. Preferably with as many embarrassing details as possible."

Peckhum's grin stretched into something eerily close to Jaina's most mischievous. "Well, Miss Jaina Solo. Seen your picture in the holo-reports. Didn't expect to see you _here_, though, not yet."

Jaina turned deep red. "Well – you know – it's a tough neighbourhood. Someone needs to make sure Zekk doesn't do something stupid." She eased back to step on Zekk's foot.

_What are you, twelve?_ Zekk wondered as loudly as he could. He cleared his throat. "Jaina's teaching me to fly – I told you that – so I was going to make some dinner. I'm trying to teach her how to cook."

"It's a lost cause," Jaina said dolefully. "I still set things on fire in the microwave."

"How you can be a Jedi, and lack basic survival skills, I'll never know," Zekk replied, tugging her ponytail. The look on Peckhum's face made Zekk refocus. His hand dropped from Jaina's hair, and he gave Peckhum an awkward smile. "I didn't know you were – did I forget…?"

"No, just dropped by," the old man said. "Thought I'd see how you were doing. This'll be the perfect time for me to meet your…Jaina." As Zekk watched, seized by his nerves, Peckhum drew Jaina further into the flat. "Sit down with an old man. Did you just get back?"

Jaina started, and tossed Zekk a wary look. "I – "

"From the training thing, yeah," Zekk interrupted. "A few days ago. Right, Jaina?"

"Yeah, I'm just surprised you mentioned it," Jaina said, not skipping another beat as she turned back to Peckhum. "It was this Jedi survival program, no tech, and I could barely let Zekk know I was leaving. He got kind of ticked."

Zekk rolled his eyes. "Well, if you will run off without a word – "

"So I've been taking him flying constantly to make it up to him." She grinned at Zekk, and he gestured that he'd be in the kitchen.

"And how's he doing?" he heard Peckhum ask. "Not giving you any trouble?"

"No, no," Jaina replied, a little more softly. "Zekk's – I mean, I _love_ flying, so I'm not sure if anyone could really be trouble when I'm in the cockpit. But Zekk's a natural. He's…he's doing very well."

Rummaging through his cooler, Zekk blushed and grinned.

"He's a smart boy," Peckhum was saying. He sounded proud. "Like my own son."

"Well, I don't mind him, either."

"He loves it, you know." Peckhum was unusually intent. Zekk had a bad feeling about this.

Jaina sounded flustered. "Well, we have that in common. But you know, I wanted to talk to you about something – " But her voice dropped even lower, and Zekk couldn't hear anything else.

_**x x x x x**_

"Sorry if he hounded you." Zekk's cheeks were still faintly red from the dinner conversation. "He seems to think – well, he's probably wondering if any of the tabloids are right."

"I'll never understand those things," Jaina said. Her lips were curled in something like amusement. "I'm a Jedi, and a Rogue pilot. How much time do they think I even have? How many guys could I actually make time for?"

_You come see me_, Zekk thought suddenly. He didn't say it.

"He's great, though," Jaina continued. "Peckhum. I like him – he really cares about you."

"Yeah." Zekk leaned against the hallway. Peckhum was still in his flat, but Zekk felt himself lingering outside anyway. "Do you need me to show you where you parked your hover car, again?"

"No, I remember where it is." Her face looked soft in the dim lighting. "And Peckhum is waiting." She rapped the door lightly with her knuckles. She grinned. "Or eavesdropping at the door."

Zekk gave the door a disbelieving look. "What is he, five? Crazy old man."

Jaina laughed. "Well, I'll see you later. Remember to do those reflex exercises I showed you – it might save a few lives."

"But do they save apartments?" he asked, just to see her make a face at him. "Next week, then."

"_Bye_."

As Jaina had predicted, Peckhum was still close to the door when Zekk re-entered the flat. To Zekk's surprise, however, the teasing did not immediately commence. Zekk gave the older man a wary look. When Peckhum made no venture to start, Zekk spoke. "So, just checking up, hm?" He led Peckhum back into the living room. "Are you alright?"

Peckhum rolled his eyes as they sat. "I'm fine, kid. Stop worrying."

Although relieved, the response increased Zekk's suspicions. "Who told you I was out with Jaina?"

"I stopped by the Flash for some food. They happened to mention – "

"You grilled them, you mean," Zekk said indulgently. He paused. "Well, what did you think of her?"

Peckhum took a similar moment to watch his charge. "Nice girl," he finally said. "Good head on her shoulders. Knows her engines."

"She does that," Zekk agreed. "I'm pretty sure she has names for her X-wing and all her droids."

"And she likes you."

Zekk couldn't hold back his smile. "She's a good friend."

"That, too," Peckhum conceded.


	15. Chapter 15

This is the second post of the day, so make sure you've read the previous chapter ;)

**_x-x-x-x_**

_Day 372_

In a quirk of engineering that probably cost a few jobs, Coruscant had snow for the first time in decades. It snowed for three days straight, and so hard that even Zekk's flat saw a metre of it creeping under his building's door, and the temperature dropped well below freezing where the air and coolant filters had long since declined to only bearable levels. He could only imagine what the upper planet must look like. On his way to work, Zekk wore every sweater he had ever bought or scavenged, and a toque he had found in a crash. He burrowed his fingers into his palms, and promptly lost them in his sleeves.

Only the most devoted or desperate came into the Flash for liquor or warmth, and Zekk would have shut it down if he had thought that they had anywhere else to go. Beryl was already late, and Mique had called in with a description of a house lost in snow. With nothing to look forward to otherwise, Zekk remained behind the counter, keeping busy and mostly warm as he fiddled with the dubiously shuddering heater in the corner. He had long since given up on the pool of slush at the front door.

Jaina Solo entered looking like nothing so much as a drowned cat with an IV of sunshine. "Can you _believe_ this weather?" she demanded. She was only halfway through the door, her left foot still buried somewhere in the snow outside. "You should see it up top. I could practically walk out my apartment window – it's unbelievable."

Everyone was staring at the pilot, covered in melting snow, red-cheeked, and twice her width and looking half her size in a cloak that could more easily fit a Wookiee. Her hair looked frozen, and her snow goggles and scarf covered most of her face.

"Jaina?" he said, uncertain if cabin fever had given way to hallucinations.

The Jedi dropped her sopping mitts and toque on a table before awkwardly fiddling with her goggles. "I stopped by Peckhum's first, but he said you actually came to work – personally, I've been calling in sick – so I headed over. Found something of yours in a snow drift, by the way." She nodded to the door. "Beryl was trying to walk in this, and doing a poor job of it. He should be here in a minute. Although, it's way clearer down here." She looked around. "Hey, is that your heater making those noises?"

Zekk decided to run with it. "I think it's going to die on us soon. How did you even get here?"

Jaina had hung her jacket over a booth, and she vaulted over the counter with definitely Force-aided height. "Kyp and I cooked up this sled thing – Do you have any tools here? Oh, never mind." She pulled a multi-tool from her belt, and crouched before the heater. "It's just being difficult, I think. If I can just…"

Beryl almost fell through the door, and into the puddle. "Your girl is _crazy_. Have you seen her sled? Have you seen her _fly_?"

"I'm teaching him," said the dripping legs under the heater. Zekk hadn't been aware there was that much room under or behind the creaking machine.

"She's all yours," Beryl told Zekk before heading into the back.

"Wuss," said the heater.

"This is a little different from an X-wing," Zekk pointed out, ignoring Beryl and his insinuations. "And it's very cold. Please don't break it."

"Beryl could do with some toughening up," she retorted. "But I can fix anything, so maybe he should just try walking around outside without my help." There was a loud bang before he noticed a change. The heater gave death very serious consideration, sputtered, and then after a sharper bang smoothed into a full hum. Jaina slid out from underneath, her rapidly melting hair swinging before it stuck to her cheeks. "That should do it," she said. "And all for the low price of a hot chocolate. It's kind of cold outside."

"How did you even get here? Some of the snow is taller than you are," he pointed out.

Jaina looked vaguely annoyed as she retied her hair in a ponytail. Her eyes were particularly bright with against the pallor and pink of her cold cheeks. "I _told_ you. Kyp and I cobbled together this mechanical sled so I could get around."

"I'm still stuck on the part where they let you out," he said, nonetheless steaming a large mug of milk.

"Well, it was only Kyp there, and he was busy trying to figure a way out of his latest mess. My mother will never be told of this. And anyway, it's not like I still live at home. I'm a big girl."

"You built a sled," he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"There's almost four feet of snow, top-side. Hover cars aren't working, and I would have drowned if I walked; jumping down here was also not an option. Of course I built a sled. It's actually pretty cool," she told him, warming up to her topic. "You can't count on the snow to be packed, of course, but you need some kind of repulsion system, or I wouldn't have gotten here until next week. So Kyp and I got this idea from – "

"But why?" he blurted out.

Jaina blinked and looked impatient. "Because most engines give off at least some heat, which you don't want in this case, because it'll melt the snow. So anyway, I asked my dad about the machines they used on Hoth – "

"No," he interrupted. "I mean – why'd you come down here?"

Jaina stared at him. "Well, to see you." Apparently exercising maturity, she did not tack on the _duh_.

He stared back. "There's a blizzard outside, with snow drifts taller than you are, and you built a sled. Were you that bored?"

Jaina's face flushed worse than when she had first come in. She looked uncertain, as if she would make a joke to pass it off, before her expression became more serious. "No, I came because you're my friend, one of my _best_ friends, and because this is our day, and I love snow, but I wanted to make sure – yeah, this is really stupid. Look, I'm really bad with this emotional stuff, but I have a much better opinion of you than you do, okay? And you're my friend, so we'll leave it at that."

Beryl appeared at Zekk's side while the dark-haired man was still searching for words. "I've changed my mind," the other bartender said. "Let me take her off your hands."

Jaina was quick to break their staring contest. "You couldn't handle me."

_But what a way to go_, Zekk imagined Beryl saying, and had a feeling that Jaina could make street crawlers think very stupid things.


	16. Chapter 16

_Day 373_

The snow had abated only a little, but Zekk was too familiar with Jaina's defiant streak not to expect her this time. He had told her to stay inside before she froze or drowned, but it must have only encouraged her. He felt surprisingly easy about that, but turned up the heater at the Flash for when she came for her threatened snow walk.

Despite his best intentions, when she finally arrived Jaina refused to wait long enough to dry out. Instead, she shoved some snow goggles into his hands and proceeded to drag him outside. The winds had eased somewhat, allowing for conversation without shouting. Zekk didn't speak. Jaina only tucked her arm in his, and drifted into her own silence.

The top levels might still be encased in snow, but the lower levels were slowly emerging from their homes to see the planet's natural winter. Only slow snowflakes were drifting down now, besides the occasional snowdrift pushed from the upper levels.

Jaina's steps were awkward tasks, for all her balance and strength, not to mention her enthusiasm; her slight build was a significant obstacle, and her fingers stayed tight on Zekk's arm for support. The arrangement was less helpful when they both stepped on an icy patch. Jaina alone might have recovered herself, or at least landed well, but Zekk had hardly started skidding before Jaina was jerked along and they both fell hard.

"Kriff," he groaned. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, and then lost her composure into his side. Her laughter caught on, even with his probable bruises, and Zekk's face turned close to hers, only to nearly get a mouthful of wet toque, which only made him laugh harder. "So much for Jedi reflexes," he finally managed to say.

She gave him a light punch to the chest. "It was _your_ fault. You started flailing around like a novice, and I couldn't – Jerk." But she stayed close, and he knew she was grinning up at him.

"We should probably get up before you sink."

She sat up gingerly and stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm smaller than you, you're more likely to sink than I am."

"But you'd get lost, and then what kind of debut would I make in the tabloids? 'Street kid tests Jedi air capacity under snow,' or perhaps 'Coruscanti snow planned to cover Jedi nobility assassination: Undercover Dark Jedi revealed.'"

"You are such a geek," she informed him as she used his chest to stand up. Her mitt wiggled before him, and he took her hand up. "They'd swear up and down that since my break-up with – insert any name here – I'd given up on life, and committed suicide by defiant snowstorm." She tilted her head. "You okay, by the way?"

Zekk tried to brush the snow off of his jacket before it melted. "I'm fine – nothing I can't walk off. What about you?"

Jaina shrugged, still grinning. "I'm good. I've had worse workouts. You are _covered_ in snow, though; I think it likes you. You aren't too cold, right? Can't have your fingers falling off."

He brushed a patch of snow off her toque. "You're smaller than I am; even a Jedi might find it difficult to fly without fingers."

"I'd fly if I lost all four limbs, but I'm okay with the cold. I mean, I still need to borrow Kyp's coat, but I can use the Force to help me, a little, to maintain my temperature. Hence my checking for you."

Zekk's head spun. "You…maintain your temperature. So you – you could not die, almost. I mean, barring extremes."

"I can die from hypothermia just as quickly as you can; I just might feel more comfortable. And if I fool myself, I won't last half so long."

The wind seemed crueller, suddenly. "Maybe we should go inside, then. Hot drinks on me."

Jaina's cheeks were pinker than a moment before. "You're sweet, but I really am fine. It's easier to slip when you're focused on a mission, or if you're hurt, but I'm fine. Unless you're actually cold, then we can head back."

He looked away at her compliment, feeling suddenly warm. "I'm alright; I don't have a problem with the cold."

Jaina fished one of his hands out of his sleeve, and held it in hers. She was frowning a little. "You are, aren't you?" she said, and there was something odd about the way she said it.

"Growing up in the lower levels," he reminded her, "you toughen up quick, or don't make it at all."

Her eyes travelled from his hand up to his face. "But – " She stopped. She was looking at him like he had a puzzle hidden up his sleeve, just out of her sight – then she shook her head. "Okay."

He smiled at her. "Keep walking?"

"Keep walking."

He forgot to let go of her hand until they were almost back at the Flash. Jaina either didn't notice or didn't mind; the smile never left her face – that might have been a reason for his inattention.


	17. Chapter 17

_Day 385_

Someone left Zekk a comm message of uncontrolled laughter. The next message, from a very smug Peckhum, asked if he had read the latest _Coruscant Uncovered_. By the time Zekk had picked up a copy, his neighbours were grinning as they waved, and a stranger had clapped him on the back.

JAINA SOLO'S MYSTERY BOYFRIEND FROM THE WRONG SIDE OF THE TRACKS.

Although they had only a blurry holo-image of Jaina and Zekk from outside the Rogues' landing bay, and not even his name, the _Uncovered_ assured readers that Zekk was "all Jaina talked about," and a load of other rubbish. Amongst other things, an "insider" claimed that Jaina had "never been happier" and that she had been "making a real effort to clean her life up."

Zekk knew better than to listen to the tabloids. Hadn't Jaina given a flat denial to the vast majority of tabloids' ideas, let alone details?

Zekk knew better.

_**x-x-x**_

_Day 386_

Jaina Solo, Zekk realized the second he saw her, had only taken a break from the warpath. She stormed into the Flash, and paused only when she saw Zekk with a customer. She scowled at Mique, and had drained half her brandy before she even sat down. The fingers of her right hand were tight around the glass, even though Zekk knew the bones were still sore sometimes. He had never thought of her as dangerous before, but she was starting to make the customers nervous.

"_Please_ get your girlfriend out of here," Mique muttered next to him. "I will pay you an extra half hour if you do it before Beryl runs."

"She's not my – " Zekk glanced at Beryl. "Good point, he's never done well with Jaina."

"Personally, I think she's hot." Mique shrugged. "But all yours, man. I don't have the patience for your game. Takes too long."

Zekk told Mique exactly where he could put his assumptions, then braced himself for the hurricane. At least he knew her temper today wasn't reserved for him – Jaina had no qualms about tearing his head off in public, and hadn't even when they hardly knew each other. Still, he expected that – regular day and time, or no – he'd be hearing about it.

"I'm being as calm as I can," she almost snapped, when he approached her. "I really, really am; I can't help it if Beryl's a Thezaela chicken."

"You're scaring customers," Zekk told her. "Finish your drink quick, and we're getting bounced."

She gave Beryl a deliberately black scowl, but drained her glass. "I can't sit still right now anyway."

"You never can," he pointed out. "Now come on."

Perhaps being on the move did help somewhat, because Jaina seemed to have a tighter leash on her temper outside. "Sorry, I just – I only just came from that sith-spawned rag's office, and it hasn't helped."

"What are you talking about?" Zekk was, for his part, bewildered.

"The _Coruscant Uncovered_. I've been ripping into their editor since I found the article. I couldn't find the writer, but hopefully I've put the fear of the Force into the tabloid."

"But really, what?" Zekk pulled her to a stop. Her pacing was starting to make his head spin.

Jaina looked strangely nervous. "You didn't see the article?" She started pacing again. "They wrote this – front-page story about – us. They snapped some holos, and made this whole…epic romance thing out of it."

"Oh," Zekk said. "That?"

"Kriff, you _did_ see it," Jaina groaned. "Look, I'm sorry. They won't retract it, or anything, but I promise I'll get them off your case somehow, if I have to go and have tabloid babies with – I don't know, with Kyp – he'll think it's a laugh."

Jaina's frustration was catching. "Why are you so upset about this? You're in the tabloids all the time. You forward them around as jokes."

"But it's not – " Jaina stopped. A fraction of her anger was shifting. The look in her eyes informed Zekk that they were _supposed_ to be on the same page.

"You've been married to and impregnated by half the tabloid cast, been to any number of rehabs, and been on the verge of the Dark side every other month," he pointed out.

"But this is – _you_."

He reared back. "A street rat, you mean?" he retorted before thinking.

"Actually, _that_ was you being stupid," she snapped.

"Thank you so much."

"Why do you _do_ that?" she demanded. Before he had a chance to respond, she had reined herself in. "I was born into this mess. It sucks that I can't get post-mission counselling without the whole galaxy finding out and saying it's because I'm suicidal, but I'm used to it. You shouldn't have to deal with this. It's just one article now, but if they ran with it – Do you really want your life splayed across the data sheets?"

"They're used to you flitting between relationships," Zekk dismissed. He was no longer quite as upset. "They would never stick with it, especially when it's supposedly a – a healthy relationship. Besides, they'd never get over you and Kyp."

"I think the tabloids have a better opinion of my readiness to commit than I do," Jaina said wryly, seeming to relax. "At least they think I'm carrying a constant torch for Kyp. I don't even have a favourite restaurant, and I never cook. I'm not even domestic enough to be committed."

Zekk asked what had to be asked. "What about Jag? You've been seeing him for – what, a year?"

Jaina waved a hand. "That's not committed. It's just…all the politics, the parties we have to go to, that sort of thing. We mock Very Important People over Alderaani wine, and rescue each other from power marriages."

He looked away. "That's enough for some people."

She snorted in a way that he did not think would meet with her princess mother's approval. "Some people, maybe. My dad kidnapped my mom to talk her out of that kind of commitment." When Zekk looked at her, she shrugged. "Anyway, I'm as likely to end up dead, or a spinster. Do you think I'll be safe from the tabloids in a Jedi nursing home?"

"Maybe up until you take the home's hover bus for a joy ride."

"Hover bus?" she said, affronted. "By the time I'm done with it, it'll be a smoother ride than my mom's old political shuttle, and definitely faster."

"Which will be great comfort to you, I'm sure, when you suffer a nervous breakdown and face criminal charges."

"I'll just tell them it was all your idea. You can be the bad influence for once. What?"

Zekk had been staring at her. He stopped. The grin, however, refused to disappear. "You're going to make me poor with your bail, aren't you?"

Jaina beamed; It looked – from what he could remember – like her father's grin. "Nah, I'll just threaten to go Dark, and you can play good cop. Wanna try it on a tabloid editor now?"


	18. Chapter 18

_Day 407_

The first time Zekk pushed a fully equipped ship into hyperspace, his stomach rolled over and he was very nearly sick. Jaina burst out laughing. "You should see your _face_. Aren't you glad we went before lunch?"

"I can't move," he groaned.

"Good thing I'm here, then; you don't want to be drunk for the first five minutes after lightspeed." Zekk could hear Jaina typing, pulling levers, and pushing buttons. He could feel the echoes against his aching head. "Now's the time to double-check your arrival coordinates, stabilize the engines, gear down your power output… Your face is _really_ green. You sure you've reached lightspeed before?"

"Well, I didn't _walk_ from Ennth."

"I think it's easier when you're a kid," Jaina said. "Look, just don't hurl on anything important. Kyp will kill me if something happens to his ship. He can be such a drama queen. Um, here, I'll go get a wet cloth."

"No, I'm fine."

"Which is male ego for…?"

"It's getting better. I think." He could move again, and slowly unbuckled his crash webbing.

"I didn't think it'd hit you this bad," she said, flipping more switches. "I practically grew up in space. Plus, I've been piloting since I was six."

"You mean _crashing_ since you were six," he said on reflex.

"That was on my own with the _Falcon_. But my dad let me co-pilot even before that. He taught me everything I know. But I thought you'd better have some help, your first go 'round in a normal ship. More buttons, more spread out, than Ewok or an X-wing. You'll get used to it."

"As long as I remember," he muttered, studying the wide console.

"You'll learn quickly," Jaina said, absently. It didn't sound exactly, or only, like praise, but she didn't elaborate. "You okay now? Don't lie to a Jedi, either."

"Yeah, but it isn't that bad every time, is it?"

"Can you imagine?" Jaina's grin was disconcertingly wild. He imagined that not even constant space sickness would keep her away from the stars. "But no, it won't be even half as bad next time for you, and soon you'll barely notice it. I just thought you'd better have your first go with a friend."

"I'm not likely to fly in front of anyone else anytime soon," he pointed out.

Jaina ignored him. "We'll be in hyperspace for about half an hour before we've looped back to our origin spot. Not even long enough for you to get cabin fever." She leaned back in the co-pilot's seat, and put her boots up on the console. At his look, she shrugged. "Don't tell Kyp; he'll just think they're his dainty footprints."

Zekk pshawed. "There is nothing dainty about you. Only very, very tiny. Midget-like." Zekk put his own feet up. "Mine are more camouflaged."

"Into the woodwork." Jaina was staring out the viewport, into the blackness. "Have you ever thought…You know, you can fly now."

He shrugged, but suspected that his grin was more gleeful than nonchalant. "I still have plenty to learn."

Jaina was absentmindedly picking at one of her nails. "You could work a couple years as a co-pilot – you know more than enough for that."

Oddly the knot of tension in his gut was not nearly as tight as it had been on previous occasions when he had spoken about the future. This was with Jaina, not any of the other people with whom he had talked. "Maybe. Of course, I have a job."

Jaina turned to look at him. She wore an expression that she usually tried to conceal, probably to protect fragile male egos. It always made Zekk think that she was reading him, sifting through the clues of what he had not said, the ones she could understand only as both a friend and a Jedi. Zekk didn't meet her eyes, prepared only to see her at the corner of his vision. "Well," she finally said. "You could quit."

He thought of the résumé typed on his datapad, a file unopened in years, with his very short list of official occupations. _Quit_. Dozens of times he had scanned job postings for anything more than a diner, and always his gut clenched and twisted, and the rent was due, and he thought of Peckhum. Peckhum, to whom he owed everything, whose hair was long since grey, whose hands shook more than sometimes. Dozens of times, he had closed the window of options, and felt something very much like relief.

He hoped, too late, that Jaina would not see that part. When he looked at her, her hands were fists, and her jaw tight.

"I've thought about it," he conceded. "But there are – reasons to stay." It felt more genuine than other times he had tried to convince himself. He stared at his boots, more worn by far than Jaina's, which were visibly her default footwear as well as her oldest pair.

"It wouldn't be as if you just left one day and never came back." Jaina paused. She was probably biting her lip as she considered her next words. "I fly all around the galaxy on missions for both the Rogues and the Jedi, and I still make it to the Flash once a week. Peckhum manages it, too, doesn't he? As a cargo shipper – he's gone sometimes, comes back and recharges, then heads out again. It's something. And – if you co-piloted – then someday you could even…save up for your own ship, maybe even get a crew of your own someday."

"I haven't been flying nearly as long as you have," he said, using his voice to inject a bit more of their usual teasing. "I don't need it like you do."

Jaina scowled. He had said the wrong thing. "It's not about flying," she muttered peevishly.

He cut her off before they could get into the argument she wanted. "Look, it doesn't really matter. I can't pilot anything until I learn how to take us out of hyperspace without hitting something, and you didn't go over it very well."

Jaina's feet dropped to the floor with a frustrated thump. "I went over it fine, and we're still talking."

"Later. You did the calculations too fast, too. I'm not sure I trust them."

"Zekk – "

"No, later." Of course, he didn't plan on there being a later. His gut couldn't deal with hyperspace sickness and a talk about the future. "And then we can talk about you, first."

Jaina rolled her eyes, but seemed at least somewhat distracted from his potential. "I don't want to talk about the future. I'm a Jedi, and I'm a pilot, and I'll be both until I die. Other than that…" She shrugged irritably.

"Do you think you'll ever…I'm trying to think of a more you-appropriate term than 'settle down.'"

To his surprise, Jaina did not laugh or pull away. Instead, her hands twisted in her lap, then smoothed down to her knees. She looked the least confident he had ever seen her – a Jaina Solo who had misplaced her brash persona. "I don't know." She resumed action as quickly as she had come to a still. "I thought – I'm a Jedi, and I'm a pilot, and neither has a spectacular life expectancy, never mind when mixed with being a Solo-Skywalker. And even if I survive long enough to – to fall in love, and marry, and have kids – I just think, what kind of other could I even be? My mom was a senator, ambassador, and the Chief of State. I mean, the galaxy's more important than a couple of kids – that goes without saying. But I saw far more of my hold-parents than I did of my mom, and I'm no more a housewife than she is – even less, probably." She straightened, and her face set. "Anyway, I'll probably die young. My brothers can worry about the Solo legacy."

He was staring at her, and couldn't stop.

She glanced up at him, then grimaced. "You're right, no more future drama. We should be just about ready to exit hyperspace, so how about we review the procedures – and don't worry about my calculations, because they're perfect."

"Jaina…"

"Your turn next, Zekk. Wanna talk about the future?"

He wasn't half as sick on the way back to the landing bay, and Jaina leaned back in her chair and refused to touch the console the rest of the way. "You'll be fine," she said, inspecting her multi-tool. "Stop bugging me." Still, he saw her watching out of the corner of her eye, ready to steady a hand or stabilize any nerve-induced errors. She looked completely confident; it was infectious.

"You're doing great," she told him when they finally landed. It was the first time she had said it out loud, to him. "I'll sit in the cabin next time. I could use a few extra hours of sleep."

The compliment bolstered him into daring. "Is there anything at all you see in your future, besides the Jedi and the stars?"

Jaina grinned at him, the lingering vulnerability stored once again behind her eyes. "I have to fly this back to Kyp. Do you need a ride back to your place?"

He glanced at his chrono, but as a rule he kept the fifth day clear. "We're near Peckhum's, so I'll just walk over there."

"I'll see you next week, then."

He didn't consider the weight of her words until later.

_**x-x-x**_

_Day 413_

Mique hid the datasheet under the counter as soon as Zekk walked into the Flash. The dark-skinned man looked uncomfortable. "Hey, man, have you talked to your girl lately?"

Zekk eyed the counter. "She's coming by tomorrow."

"Yeah, but have you talked to her?"

"About what?" It clicked. Zekk grinned. "What are the tabloids saying now?"

"It's the _City Planet_."

"There's no such thing as a reliable gossip column."

"But there's a reliable starting point, and you dragging things on too long."

Zekk rolled his eyes. "Look, just let me see it, then."

Mique scowled, and tossed the data sheet onto the counter. "There's patience, and then there's laziness, and the _Planet_ is giving you a big old road sign."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Zekk said, and then read the headline.


	19. Chapter 19

_Day 414_

Zekk was not having a good day. Mique was being insufferable, the customers were fussy, and everyone had lost their basic motor functions. No less than three people had dropped their mugs, one of them on Zekk's feet. Just as a topper, Beryl was late – even more so than usual – and Zekk couldn't clock out before his co-worker started, even for a bad day.

Jaina was timely and boisterous. "Aren't you off yet?" she asked, glancing down at her chrono.

"Beryl's late."

She rolled her eyes. "He probably found the last snowdrift in Coruscant, and is drowning himself as we speak. At least it's quiet now."

"I'm going to be a few minutes, probably," Zekk said. "Well, at least."

"But Mique's here, right? He's still working, so you can clock out."

"I should really – "

Jaina leaned over the counter. "Hey, Mique," she yelled at the backroom. "Zekk's off now. It's really quiet, so you might not even have to tend bar." She rocked back on her heels, turning her expectant look on Zekk. "He's fine with it, now come on."

Zekk heaved an impatient sigh, but stepped out from behind the counter. "I'll stay nearby just in case, Mique."

"Hey, how about this: if it gets busy, _I'll_ help," Jaina said. "I know all the drinks, after all."

"Why are you in such a hurry?" he asked, ignoring her offer. Jaina Solo wasn't going to end up serving behind the counter at the Flash.

Jaina's face turned grim, and Zekk wondered if she could really make this day worse. "We need to talk," she said.

They sat in a booth near the back. Jaina was closest to the door, and he had the bizarre thought that she was ready to stop him from running. Her hands were empty, so she folded them on the table. Zekk's back straightened. "You forgot to order your drink," he said, and moved to stand again. "The usual?"

"Zekk, just sit down, please."

He drew first. "Did you hear? You're getting married again."

"What?" Jaina looked unnerved.

"The _Planet_," he elaborated, "is convinced that Jag proposed to you a few days ago, right before swanning off."

She turned very pale, and then just as red in rapid succession. "How did they find out?"

Zekk stared at her, his amusement – and his hope for a better day – shot. "You mean it's _true_?"

"Sithspit," Jaina muttered, her teeth clenched. "I am going to _kill_ them, whoever leaked this. I wonder if Jag even knows – Kriff. I should give him the heads up."

"_You're getting married_?" His voice was too loud.

Jaina looked startled. "No, I – "

"But the _Planet_ was right."

She massaged her temples before meeting his eyes. "Do you have the article with you?"

Mique might have had a copy, but Zekk shook his head.

"Jag and I stayed in for dinner a few nights ago. He just got back from the Unknown Regions, so it was a – a late anniversary thing, I guess."

"Anniversary?" Zekk repeated.

Jaina looked irritable. "One year, I guess. It's not like we've been – but he asked me to marry him."

Zekk made his jaw work. "What did you say?"

"He asked me to take a week before I answered him," Jaina said, scowling in earnest. "He wants me to think about it."

"But – you aren't, are you?"

"Look, I'm not going to give you the answer before Jag gets it, okay? No one else was even supposed to know."

"But...you don't even want to get married."

"What?" Jaina's cockiness filled the gaps in her armour. "I never said that. I said – maybe. And I mean, with the right person, I might. I just wouldn't want to orphan my kids."

Zekk's fingers went numb. "Hells. You _are_ going to marry him."

"This is ridiculous." Jaina's temper rose to the occasion. "I didn't say that. I said I'm not opposed to the idea of marriage, ever. I could do it. I just – " She paused. "I didn't come here to talk about this. It's stupid, and I'd rather not talk about it with anyone, especially before I give Jag my answer."

"Oh, so we're just done talking about it," Zekk said. "Just like that?" He felt every inch the bartender coming off of a bad shift, and didn't expect to feel less volatile anytime soon.

"Yes, just like that," Jaina snapped before regathering her cool. "Besides, that's – _I'm_ – not what I came here to talk about, and it's important." She was able to smile, small but proud. "I have a surprise for you."

Zekk's mood had not been at all tempered, but he was taken enough off guard to give her quarter. "For me?"

She seemed to have put their clash behind her, at least for the moment. "I talked about you to some people I know – you know, for co-piloting jobs."

"You _what_?"

"I told them you have Peckhum, and all, so you'd want to be based on Coruscant, and mostly stick to the Core worlds, probably. Well, Braun mostly flies around the Outer Rim, and anyway he already has a co-pilot, but he let me know that a friend of his needs one. Her previous just joined the competition, bought his own ship. Braun said he'd talk to Xia."

She saw the look on Zekk's face, and misinterpreted. "As Braun tells it, Tsing Xia ships cargo in from the other core worlds to Coruscant. She flies regularly, but not constantly, so you could still keep an eye on Peckhum. What do you think?"

"I can find my own job." Zekk' voice was so cold as to be unrecognizable even to him, and certainly to Jaina – it took her aback for a fully thirty seconds.

Although ruffled, however, Jaina Solo had looked down on things far worse than a familiar friend's vicious turn. Perhaps she had even expected something of this, because the strength went straight to her eyes. "I never said you couldn't," she snapped. "But I have pilot friends; of course I'm going to ask around for you."

The words would not stay clogged in his throat. "And I don't need Jaina Solo to buy someone over for me, either."

Jaina looked ready to throw him. "Buy someone – you – " Her ire turned into something hard. "I didn't buy you a job; I didn't even put in a heavy-handed recommendation. I only _asked_. You still have to show up, talk fast, and fly a ship. If your pride can't take even that much, then that's your problem."

"I'm not applying."

Her jaw clenched. "Why not?"

"What, I have to take any job you give me?"

"I don't give a kriff if you take _this_ job, but I want to know why you're making such a big deal about this. If it's just because a friend kept an eye out for your best interests, then you're an idiot."

"You might not have bought it per say, but it'll get around that _Jaina Solo_ wants her wrong-side-of-the-tracks friend to get a job. Whether because of your parents or your spot on Rogue squadron, you really don't think that you handpicked me for the position?"

"You can fly," she hissed. "It's not like I asked about a senatorial seat. You can do the job – could probably pilot on your own, even – and I wouldn't say anything otherwise. I can't help my name, for kriff's sake – and I thought we were past this."

"Maybe it's easier for a princess than a street rat. You were taught your manners."

Jaina snorted incredulously. "_Manners_? Are you kidding me?"

"You can pretend we're the same, but I work here. This is my life you visit here, at the Flash, in my undercity flat. You live up in the sky and give jobs as gifts, but I can do that on my own. Maybe you should work on your own mess."

"You are not cutting off from this," she insisted. "Not even with cracks about my life, or potshots at yourself. You're completely overreacting."

"What makes you think I even want this job?"

"Force, I already _told_ you, you don't have to take this specific job if you don't want it."

"So you admit I already have it, because you asked for it," Zekk said, quick to jump on her words.

"_No_, I said it because I know you can ace the application. But if you think that, then there are dozens of other jobs. Coruscant isn't going to isolate itself anytime soon."

"I already have a job, in case you've forgotten." Zekk glanced at the counter; Mique was watching them intently.

Jaina rolled her eyes, exasperated. "You don't really expect to work here forever, do you?"

"What's wrong with the Flash, Princess?" he demanded. "It pays the bills, or have you forgotten what that's like?"

"Okay, now you're just being a jerk."

Zekk ignored her. "What's wrong with my job, anyway?"

"_Nothing_, if – "

"Billions of people rely on this kind of job to live."

"And sometimes it's enough, or it has to be." Jaina sounded like she was trying to agree with him. "But you don't have kids, or debts, or anything to hold you back, and you have so much potential. You have – so much in you for a better life."

Zekk stared at her, momentarily at a loss for words or resentment. He wanted to say something like, _I don't need Jaina Solo to tell me I'm worth something_, but he couldn't be that hard to her even at the height of his fury.

His best friend leaned forward on the table, completely caught up in her tirade. Zekk wondered how long she had been holding this in. "You just – deserve so much better than this place, and you won't even try – I can't just stand by and watch this kind of life rob you of everything you could be. I won't. You matter too much to me."

Mique interrupted before Zekk could even start to formulate a response. Zekk's boss had wondered over from the bar, and his pace increased during Jaina's diatribe. "You guys need to take this outside," he told the friends. "The Flash has a firm limit on emotional crap, and you passed it about ten minutes ago."

Jaina ran her hands over her face before nodding. Her ponytail was becoming increasingly bedraggled, loosing strands of hair about her face. "Yeah, sorry, Mique. Zekk?"

"Out back. We'll have more privacy."

"Or your flat," Mique muttered pointedly. "Also lots of privacy. Not to mention other benefits."

"Really not the time, now," Zekk almost snarled.

"Well, making up'd be easier."

"Are we waiting for anything other than bro talk?" Jaina asked impatiently. She was already at the back door.

"Good luck, man." Mique's face was unusually grim. "And don't kriff it up."

Jaina was already leaning against the alley wall when Zekk stepped outside. She had visibly lowered her weapons, though she just as clearly stayed at the ready. They stared at each other for a moment. "I'm kriffing this up," she said finally. She had removed her hair tie, and the loose strands shaped her face unfamiliarly. "I've been – thinking about this for a while, but I've never been good at this stuff. I shoot things, or stick a laser sword in them. My mom's politics never translated."

Zekk leaned against the opposite wall, crossing his arms across his chest. "I don't need you to fix my life. I do just fine; I like my life."

"Zekk..." Jaina sighed, and looked down. "We both know that's a lie."

"So you know me – my life – better than I do now?"

"I'm your friend," she insisted. "I – " She took a deep breath, then released it. "It's like – it's like you just…stopped. Like one day you started believing this whole 'street rat' shavit you carry around. You listened to other people, and you settled. You stopped at the Flash and nothing better, instead of making something real out of your life, something that matters."

Something deep in Zekk flinched, and his anger rose up in protest. "And I suppose that your way is so much better?" he asked. It was starting quietly this time.

"What do you mean, my way?" Jaina's eyes were wary.

"If I stand still, then you're always running on ahead. Always, always running."

"Come on, Zekk. It's not running to go after what you want."

"No, but you run from people; you don't listen to _anybody_."

"That's not true. I have plenty of friends."

"But you have a boyfriend who _surprised_ you with an anniversary. And let's not even get started on that death wish of yours – "

Jaina resumed the fight as if she had never tried to stop. That, Zekk thought, was Jaina for you. "_Death wish_?" she demanded. "What the kriff, Zekk?"

"That's your defence?" he mocked. "'What the kriff?' Talk about the girl who can't deal with the future, you'll talk about anything else – after all, it's not like you'll survive being a Jedi and pilot, right? Better than the idea of falling in love. No wonder you keep Jag around."

"You have it so wrong."

"Do I? You'll take any risk with your life – you didn't even take back-up on that last mission." Jaina and Zekk never said _Quec'slig_.

Judging by the whiteness of Jaina's face, she knew exactly what he was talking about. "I couldn't. That time – we couldn't risk anyone else."

"Right." Zekk stared at her. "But you could be risked. Of course. You'd rather go down fighting anyway, right?"

"Stop it."

"What, you can dig through my life to make it better, but we can't talk about you?" Zekk stepped away from the wall, closer to her.

"I want to live as much as anyone," she said. "You're tearing in looking for anything you can use. We're better than this now, aren't we?"

Zekk was taken aback by the sudden realization that Jaina had not been fighting after all, not really, not since they walked into the alley. "Jaina – " He stopped and sighed.

She stepped closer. Her arms were crossed over her chest defensively. "I just wanted to help. What's so wrong about just _asking_?"

"I don't want your help. Not with this."

There was a little more fight in her eyes, but oddly more vulnerability as well. "Too bad, because that's what happens with friends."

"No, _friends_ respect each other enough to back off, Jaina."

"I can't do that – just stand by while you let go."

"Why not? I've watched you do it with Jag – "

"What does Jag have to do with any of this?"

"Well, you're going to marry him, aren't you? Or at least you'll think about it. So much for following your parents' example."

"I never told you my answer for Jag," she snapped, "because he deserves better than that. But I thought you would understand – " She broke off, staring at him. "Zekk, don't you _know_ what I'm going to say?"

Zekk stared at her, completely at a loss. He was supposed to understand this, Jaina's betrayed expression told him, as if they had spoken about the future, or as if she had been telling him something every day and he had ignored her. How was he supposed to understand Jaina, when he didn't even know why he was so furiously certain that he did not want to hear her answer? He didn't even know why the idea of Jaina Fel was as terrible to him as working at the Flash for the rest of his life.

He couldn't stand the look in her eyes, or perhaps he was just sick of having this argument with Jaina as well as himself. He couldn't decipher the heart of what this had become, but he could attack it. "I just want to know why you care," he said. "Why is it so important to you that I get out of here?"

Jaina hesitated. The fingers of her right hand combed through her hair, sweeping it away from her face. It fell back quickly, hiding some of her features. "You're my friend. One of my _best_ friends."

"My other friends have managed to let it go. In fact, you're the only one who's been even half this pushy. As my friend, you should be able to let me make my own decisions."

"And what," she said, rather disdainfully, "just let you stifle yourself? Peckhum might be willing to just give you room, and I don't know what your other friends think, but I just can't do that."

"_Why not_?" Zekk demanded. There was something relentless, even brutal in his voice that he hadn't heard in years. "What makes you so different, Jaina? Why the kriff, when you can't mention the future without using your death as a caveat, are you so bent on fixing my life?"

"Because I – " The colour drained from Jaina's face as she stopped her answer dead. Her face was unfathomable, but no more so than the anxiety that had seized her muscles. "Because I'm…" She swallowed, and took a faltering step back. Her eyes were fixed on his.

"Because you what?" He wanted her answer now as much as he had not wanted her decision about Jag. He wished he could be softer about it, but the need refused to be moderated.

Her eyes skirted to the side, and then she sighed. He knew she was going to lie. When she looked back up at him, now two steps and so much further away, the defeat of her struggle was clear in her expression. "Because you're my best friend, Zekk. And I just – can't."

"Then we're done with this conversation."

He left her in the alley, still staring after him.


	20. Chapter 20

_Day 415_

Mique didn't wait long. Zekk had only just started his shift when the enormous man blocked his path. "So is she marrying that colonel?"

Zekk pushed past him. "I don't know."

_**x-x-x**_

Zekk worked late that night and, with the argument still fresh in his mind, he had never hated it more. He stayed longer, and even agreed to another shift out of sheer spite.

He returned to his flat to a comm message. He put it off for dinner, and a call to Peckhum (who asked about Jaina), and for a quick scan of the classifieds.

Tsing Xia was gruff and short. She left her number, and told him she was interviewing co-pilots. "I'd rather not blow up, either," she said. "So you'll be flying on-demand."

He didn't delete the message.

_**x-x-x**_

_Day 418_

The _City Planet_ – with many other sources, a number of them respectable, soon following in news – published an article with photos. Although the quality was a little blurry, Zekk recognized Jaina immediately: hair pulled back, figure trim, and defiantly wearing her flightsuit in a classy area. Jag's back was to the holo-grapher, but Jaina gave the reporter a sardonic expression that could not completely dampen her smile, and a wave with her left hand. It was, he thought, all very Jaina – except for the ring. Zekk could not think of anything less Jaina than the engagement ring she was wearing.

Jaina finally called Zekk that night. She left a comm message while he was still reading the "insider's" gushing about Jaina's happiness at finding someone with whom she could "finally" settle down.

"_Zekk_," said the future Mrs. Fel, "_I…_" She sighed, and he turned to look at the message machine. "_We need to talk. I – have to tell you something, but it's not the kind of thing you tell a person's voice mail. I just want to make sure that – that you'll be there, at the Flash, at our usual time. But if you're not, I'll camp out at your flat door – you know I will. Zekk? Are you there? It's important_."

The tabloids could be wrong, he thought. Before Jaina's reaction to the proposal article, he would have completely dismissed the story – probably. But the holo-image – that had been pure Jaina, mocking the press, always aware of them, hardly unsuspecting prey as a Jedi. He had no doubt that it was Jaina, even looking happier – lighter – than he had ever seen her, expect perhaps during the snowstorm. And that source – there was at least one source telling the truth, and Jaina hadn't known who it was to stop them. His fingers tightened on the edge of the data sheet.

_What did you think would happen?_ he asked himself. What, besides Jaina eventually coming to her senses, and patting him on the head before sending him away from her?

He did not pick up his comm. Jaina hung up, and he deleted the message.

_**x-x-x**_

_Day 419_

Under-city Coruscant had no shortage of bartenders, and Mique produced an unemployed cousin not five minutes after Zekk talked to him. Zekk had been putting aside his money for nothing except Peckhum. He paid his rent for the upcoming four months with half his savings. For discounted rent, he let his landowner fill the extra room and living room with junk.

He answered five want ads before he showed up to Tsing Xia's interview. She grilled him for an hour on everything Jaina had ever taught him before he was placed in a co-pilot's chair for the practical part of the interview. By the end, he wasn't sure he would get the job, but he knew – whatever her high-handed manner – that Jaina hadn't bullied up a job for him.

_**x-x-x**_

Tsing hired someone else – a career co-pilot, she told him, or Zekk would have had the job. Zekk was called in for another interview for a captain who Zekk knew did smuggling on the side. Raven hired him on the spot.

Mique, Beryl, Peckhum, and other familiar faces threw together a party much faster than he had expected. "We just advertised half-price alcohol," Beryl confided that night, already more than half-drunk.

Mique laughed, and slapped Zekk's shoulder. Even taking the swing, Zekk stumbled. "Nah, man," his former boss said. "We've been expecting this for months. That girl of yours was a little over-optimistic, I guess."

"She is _not_ my girl," Zekk snapped, his mood souring.

Beryl snorted into his drink, and was soon laughing as drunkenly as Zekk had ever heard him. Mique settled with rolling his eyes. "_You_ are an idiot. What'd she need to do, move into your apartment? Wear a frilly apron and make you dinner? Maybe make you a Jedi as well as a pilot? You had the fight, don't forget the make-up – "

"Jaina and I are just friends," Zekk interrupted. "And at the moment, I don't even know if we're that much. And she's the absolute last thing I want to talk about right now." He looked down at his glass of brandy. It was his third, and almost empty. The buzzing around him suggested oncoming inebriation. But the brandy was an unusually nice colour, and it made him fuzzy. "I'm going to get a refill," he told no one in particular.

"He'll have another Jaina Solo special," Mique roared at the Flash's bar.

Jone, Mique's cousin and new staff, looked panicked. "…What's that?" he asked, none-too-discretely flipping through a book of mixes.

Mique was unapologetic, even under Zekk's blackest glare. "It was that, or Frustrated Jedi. Not too many people are that devoted to a drink. Wanna hear the new name for our brandy-based hot chocolate?"

Zekk gave up. "Now I'm really going to need that drink."

_**x-x-x**_

Other than all the questions about Jaina, Zekk slipped out of his life far easier than he had ever expected.

"I'll be back regularly," Zekk told Peckhum when he was giving the old man a ride back to Peckhum's flat. "And if you need anything – if something happens – you make sure you call me."

"Who's the kid here, and who's the old man?" Peckhum said, snorting. "Survived this long, didn't I?"

Zekk's fingers were tight around the steering wheel. "I can put off my starting date a week; it's ridiculously short notice, and just a short run anyway – "

"What, because of me?" Peckhum scoffed. "Stupid boy. Could use a week to smooth things over with Jaina, though - never a good idea to take off while things are still bad."

Zekk made a non-committal sound. He didn't look at Peckhum.

The old spacer paused for a long moment. "She does know you're leaving, right?" Zekk's face must have betrayed him. "At least that you took the job – she told me, first time we met, you'd be getting out. She'll be as proud of you as any of us."

"This is something I have to do myself." It was, he thought, mostly true. "Jaina will have to understand. She's not so finished product, herself."

_**x-x-x**_

When Zekk got home that night, he tossed his keys onto the counter, and looked about his flat. It had been stripped almost bare; he would have his own room on Raven's ship, and would spend most of his time there, or at Peckhum's flat. He hadn't unplugged his comm machine yet, but it was one of the few things that he hadn't packed away.

He rummaged about the kitchen, drinking the last of his juice, and preparing a sandwich for the morning. The comm machine continued to pull his gaze, but Zekk managed to pack a lunch, and prepare his breakfast before he sat at the table. The message light blinked at him several times; when he had cleared out his cooling unit, he finally turned the comm machine to face him.

Jaina's latest message – probably to remind him again to show up the next day – continued to flicker its staccato protest. Quickly, he typed in her comm unit's number. He paused, and then pressed the green button. The comm dialled, and began to ring.

She picked up. Someone was laughing in the background. "_Shut up, it might be – _"

A man's laughter.

Zekk hung up, and unplugged the machine. It didn't really matter, if Mrs. Fel or Jaina had answered; Zekk just couldn't talk to her before he left. Jaina would just have to understand.

_**x-x-x**_

_Day 421_

Jaina was ready. She had frittered away a week saying goodbyes, and hoping Zekk would go first or even just give her a sign. She'd lambasted her brothers for minor details, flown enough tricks to almost get grounded, and sparred with Kyp for more hours than was really healthy – she had bruises all over. "Which is a great way to start this conversation," she muttered to the mirror, but she didn't care enough to bother with any kind of healing.

She could do this, as was, bruises and all. No more being a coward who hung onto the past. Jaina Solo had fought evil masterminds, bounty hunters, and paparazzi. She was going to be better this time.

Her resolve brought her through the doors of the Flash, and found her a seat at the counter. When looking around revealed no sign of Zekk, she let her temper flicker. She knew where he lived now – did he really expect to avoid her just by playing hooky?

Mique sent an unfamiliar bartender over to her, which raised her eyebrow. She decided to give Zekk fifteen more minutes before she grilled his boss. She could stand to lose fifteen minutes, being better. Last week hadn't gone well, but they could fix it. They could _definitely_ fix it. She wouldn't run this time.

Jaina wasn't going anywhere.

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This was the original ending, but I chickened out :P If there's any interest, I have been working on a sequel. Let me know if you want to read it :)

Thanks for reading!


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